


Shadows of the Past: Atonement

by Ithiel_Dragon



Series: Shadows of the Past [1]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe, Angst, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Child Abuse, Eugenics Wars, Explicit Sexual Content, Human Experimentation, M/M, Physical Abuse, Romance, Time Travel, Torture, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-08
Updated: 2014-10-24
Packaged: 2018-03-13 22:17:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 22
Words: 52,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3398270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ithiel_Dragon/pseuds/Ithiel_Dragon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While investigating the appearance of a temporal disturbance, Jim Kirk suddenly finds himself transported three hundred years into Earth's past. Right in the middle of the Eugenics Wars.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [NurseDarry](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NurseDarry/gifts).



> A birthday fic for my Beta [NurseDarry](http://archiveofourown.org/users/NurseDarry/pseuds/NurseDarry).

The _Enterprise_ was barely six months into her five-year mission when they received the comm from Starfleet. A passing ship had detected some kind of temporal anomaly just outside of the Sol system. The anomaly had been described as "a lightning storm in space". Understandably the news had raised a few alarms.

Due to the _Enterprise's_ experience with the _Narada_ and because their chief science officer, Mr. Spock, had the most experience studying such anomalies (mostly due to the knowledge shared by Spock's elder counterpart with his younger self), Starfleet decided that the _Enterprise_ and her crew were the most appropriate to investigate the anomaly. No one wanted a repeat of the _Narada_ incident which had ended with the destruction of Vulcan and the near destruction of Earth.

So, Captain James Tiberius Kirk had ordered the _Enterprise_ to basically make a massive U-turn and head back towards Earth space to investigate the anomaly. He was beginning to think of this decision as the first, in a long line, of very bad choices he was about to make.

* * *

"Status report, Mr. Spock?"

The _Enterprise_ had only come out of warp in the vicinity of the anomaly a little over an hour ago. It was huge, spanning the entire length of the viewscreen despite their distance from it. Nebula-like gasses swirled, pulsed, and crackled with energy, not unlike a lightning storm. Beautiful and dangerous. Every time Jim looked at it he felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end and a cold chill roll down his spine. Even though Spock has reassured him that the _Enterprise_ was located what was considered a safe distance away from the anomaly, Jim couldn't shake the nervousness he felt and wasn't taking any chances. He wanted to know the second there was any change so that he could have the torpedoes ready, or that they could get the hell out of Dodge at a moment's notice if need be.

No one could really blame Jim for being apprehensive about this mission. The "lightning storm in space" that had preceded the opening of a black hole that the _Narada_ had come through had cost them all a great deal. Jim had lost a father. Spock had lost his mother and entire planet. The elder Spock had become trapped here from a future that no longer existed. All of their fates had been changed irrevocably, forever by that one incident and there was no way to know how far those ripples extended. Jim was not looking forward to a possible repeat performance of the _Narada_ , or something worse, coming out of this mission.

"The phenomenon appears to be similar to that created by the red matter, however initial readings indicate that though similar in appearance, the two anomalies are in fact not related. Radiation levels are unlike anything I have encountered before. The stability of the anomaly appears to be disintegrating. I predict the anomaly will dissipate on its own in a matter of hours," Spock informed him, calm as ever.

Well, that was good news, Jim supposed. Once the anomaly had disappeared, they could inform Starfleet it was just a false alarm, and return to their previous assignment...

"Captain, radiation levels appear to be increasing dramatically from the anomaly," Spock suddenly announced almost urgently. The entire ship shook as the first shockwave hit them despite their distance from the anomaly.

Of course, it could never be that easy.

"Mr. Chekov, how are our shields?" Jim asked, forcing his voice to remain calm despite his rising alarm. After his experience in the warp core, where he had died from lethal radiation poisoning once already, he didn't think anyone could blame him.

"Shields are holding for the moment, Keptin, but if the radiation levels continue to rise..."

Alarms suddenly began to blare unexpectedly.

"Talk to me, Spock!"

"Radiation levels from the anomaly are spiking. Shields are failing."

Jim felt his heart begin to pound hard in his chest.

"Sulu, get us out of here!"

"Controls are unresponsive, Captain. I don't understand..."

"Bridge to Mr. Scott..." Jim didn't get the chance to continue as another shockwave rocked the _Enterprise_ with enough force to throw him out of the captain's chair. Alarms continued to scream from every system. There was no way the ship would be able to sustain another hit...

"Captain! Radiation readings from the anomaly are increasing exponentially!"

"Shields are down, Keptin!"

Another shockwave hit the _Enterprise_ and white-hot agony burned through Jim's body the likes of which he'd never experienced before. Not even in the warp core had he felt this much intense pain all at once. It was like every atom in his body was exploding all at the same time. He heard someone screaming, and only distantly realized that it was him making the sound.

"Captain!"

Screaming. His ship. His crew. They were all going to die like this...screaming... But he was the only one screaming. Why was he the only one screaming?

"Doctor McCoy you are needed on the bridge!" Jim had never heard Spock sound so terrified before.

Stop... Please make it stop...the screaming...the pain... Please...

"Jim!"

At last, blessed darkness. Jim didn't care if he was dying, as long as the pain stopped.

* * *

He was cold and his entire body hurt. The last thing he remembered was a feeling like his entire cellular structure was breaking down and flying apart. It was not unlike the feeling of stepping into a transporter beam, only a hell of a lot more agonizing.

Jim forced his eyes open slowly. An old fashioned fluorescent light flickered weakly above him, making him wince despite the dim glow. He looked down his body, almost afraid of what he would find. To his relief his body looked and felt solid enough. From what he could tell, all of his parts were accounted for, so whatever had ripped him apart had at least put him back together in the right configuration.

Jim coughed, then gagged when he became aware of the intense foul smell all around him. One thing was for certain, he was not in the medbay as he had expected. Dirty and cracked walls rose up on either side of him in what appeared to be a narrow alley of some kind. He was lying in the middle of a trash pile. Well, that explained why his 'bed' smelled so bad, though to be honest, the biobeds in the medbay weren't much better. What it didn't explain was where he was and how the hell he had gotten here.

Slowly Jim pushed himself up from the ground. It took several tries, and he threw up once he managed to crawl onto his hands and knees. When everything finally stopped spinning like a merry-go-round from hell, he used one of the walls to brace himself as he stumbled to his feet. He immediately wanted to collapse back to the ground, no matter how gross and uncomfortable, but he forced himself to remain on his feet as he carefully picked his way around piles of trash to the mouth of the alley.

The street beyond wasn't much better. The few lights that were working barely illuminated the dark gloom of the night. The area appeared to be completely deserted, and it wasn't hard to see why. Most of the buildings were barely better than ruins, crumbling and riddled with what looked like projectile firearm damage. In the street there were large craters everywhere, most likely caused by explosions.

As Jim picked his way through the ruins, his confusion only grew. He knew he was on Earth, he'd recognize the moon slipping in and out from behind the wispy clouds overhead anywhere, but that did not explain how he'd gotten here. Or why it looked like he had been dropped into the aftermath of a war zone. Jim hadn't seen devastation like this since...since San Francisco in the aftermath of the _Vengeance_ crashing into Starfleet headquarters. Yet as bad as that had been, this seemed so much worse somehow.

Maybe it was because of how deserted the area was, there was not a sight or sound of life anywhere. No emergency vehicles. No construction crews trying to repair what had been damaged. No survivors trying to pick up the pieces. Nothing...

"Hello? Is anyone there?" Jim shouted as he made his way through the ruined city. His voice echoed back to him from the empty shells of the buildings, but there was no other sound. He spied an overturned trashcan, its contents spilling onto the ruined sidewalk. Was that...a newspaper? He had seen some before, in a museum. They had once been common before datapads had become the standard form to pass along documents instead of paper. Paper books were rare and expensive antiques, but there were few intact newspapers left, considering they were considered disposable and made from far less-quality paper.

Jim dug the soiled and barely legible paper out of the rubbish and brought it as close to the weak light of the street lamp as he could. Most of the ink was so smudged he could barely read it but the headline was clear enough.

'War Casualties Rise to Over Twenty Million.'

What the hell... Then Jim saw the date of the paper and almost dropped it in his shock.

1993... Holy shit...

It wasn't possible. It just wasn't...except that it was completely possible. The _Narada_ and Spock had come through such a temporal vortex to his time from the future. Was it such a stretch that somehow Jim had been thrown back into the past by a similar anomaly? And of course it was just Jim's luck to end up in possibly the worst possible time period in human history.

Right in the middle of the Eugenics Wars.

Jim took a deep breath and let it out slowly. First thing's first. He needed to try to figure out exactly how he'd gotten here. It would probably help if he figured out where, and when, he was to begin with. The paper was very old, so he couldn't rely on that. He'd woken up alone, but what if he wasn't the only one to get thrown into the past? He would have to find out if any more of his crew were here. Then he could try to figure out a way to get back... There had to be a way to get back.

Having a plan in mind, even though Jim had no idea how to accomplish any of those goals, made him feel a little less panicked. He'd start with the easiest goal first, finding out where he was. If he continued exploring, he was bound to discover something, maybe even some people who could help him. Though it might be a better idea to find someplace he could rest for the remainder of the night and keep searching when it was light.

With that in mind, Jim began to climb over what had once been some kind of barricade made from the ruined remains of old vehicles. One of the burned-out chassis looked very similar to his step-father's antique car before Jim had driven it off a cliff. The memory made Jim smile for a moment before he accidentally slipped on a loose piece of rubble and fell the rest of the way down the barricade. He hit the ground hard and cracked his head against a large slab of concrete with enough force to knock himself out cold.

* * *

When Jim came to again, not much had changed except he now had a headache to match the pain in the rest of his body , and the side of his face felt tight and sticky with dried blood. He wasn't sure what had woken him until he felt a sharp kick in his side. He cried out and tried to turn away to shield himself from further blows.

"Don't move!" an angry voice demanded. Jim opened his eyes to see a weapon pointed directly at his face. He didn't recognize what it was, but Jim stilled none-the-less after holding up his hands to show that he was unarmed.

"Who are you?! What are you doing out after curfew?!" the man demanded, and Jim shook his head in confusion.

"My name is James T. Kirk. Curfew? I don't..." He didn't get the chance to continue. Another man called out from Jim's right to the first.

"Jackson? What have you got?"

The first man, Jackson, gestured to Kirk with his weapon.

"I just found him here, lying out in the open. I think he's one of _them!"_ Jackson spat the final word out like a curse.

"Have you tested him?"

"I was waiting for you."

"Tested?" Jim tried to ask, but the first man struck him hard across his face with his weapon, making Jim's already throbbing head spin and threaten to send him straight back unconscious.

"Shut up, you! Don't move." Jim wasn't sure which man spoke at that point, but he did feel it when one of them grabbed his arm and forced his sleeve up. Jim tried to pull away and was struck again. If this kept up he was definitely going to end up with a concussion. If he didn't have one already.

"I said don't move!"

Something sharp was jabbed into the skin of his arm and quickly removed. Jim heard several soft whirring noises and then finally a rapid beeping.

"Shit! He's one of them!" One of the men, Jim thought it was Jackson again, shouted. Before Jim could even attempt to question what he meant by 'one of them' he was struck again and this time he did black out.

* * *

When Jim woke again it was even more unpleasantly than the first time if that was possible. He sputtered and coughed as he was suddenly drenched in ice cold water, the feeling of drowning making him flail blindly, only for his arms to come up short by the chains attached to heavy cuffs on his wrists. Jim shivered on the cold stone floor as his eyes scanned his surroundings. The small room had no windows, only four stone walls and one heavy metal door. A large dark skinned man stood in front of the door, his arms crossed, as he glared down at Jim with an unforgiving expression. Most likely he was the cause of Jim's unexpected 'bath'.

"You are going to tell me who you are and what your mission was," The man demanded with an accent that Jim couldn't quite place, just like the two men who had found Jim.

"I already told your goons, my name is James Kirk. I'm..." Jim couldn't exactly tell him who he was or where he was from, he would think Jim was insane. "I don't know what you're talking about. I'm not on any mission. I don't even know where here is." Jim spoke as calmly and reasonably as possible given the circumstances.

Unfortunately the man's expression quickly morphed into rage.

"Oh, is that really the way you want to play this then? Fine. We've got ways of making you talk, Augment," the man said as he started to turn to leave the room. It took a few moments for Jim to actually process what the man had said. What he'd called him.

"Wait! No... I'm not..."

But the man didn't listen to him. He simply opened the door and spoke to someone on the other side. Soon two more men entered, grabbed Jim, and hauled him up off of the floor before dragging him from the small cell. The room they entered was larger, but just as dark and dismal as the cell he'd woken in. Jim was lugged over to a metal rack of some kind and securely chained to it. His clothes were ripped off of him and despite his struggles, he was completely helpless to stop what was happening.

A loud crack from behind him made Jim crane his neck to look over his shoulder and he saw one of the men holding a whip, an actual fucking whip! He couldn't believe this was happening.

"Let's start simple then. Tell me who you are," The man demanded, and Jim swallowed hard. He had already told the man who he was and apparently he didn't believe him. He didn't think these men were willing to listen to reason. He didn't know what else he could do however.

"I told you, my name is James Kirk..."

The whip immediately lashed out and Jim couldn't contain the pained cry that escaped his lips as it tore open a long bloody stripe to his back. Tears immediately sprang to his eyes.

"I'm not in the mood for games or lies. Tell me who your commander is. What was your mission here?" the man demanded again. Jim shook his head helplessly.

"I don't know what you're talking about..." Jim screamed again as the lash fell across his shoulders, back, and thighs again and again. None of his answers seemed to satisfy his torturers. Every inch of his back felt like it was on fire. He felt blood dripping down his legs. His throat was raw from screaming. He couldn't have answered them even if he knew what they wanted him to say.

"Why isn't he healing?" Jim finally heard one of the men ask, and Jim made a sound halfway between a laugh and a pathetic whimper.

"I'm not an augment," Jim somehow managed to croak out through his abused throat. Why would they think he was an augment?

"Bullshit. He was tested," one of the other men insisted and it suddenly made sense. They must have tested his blood. Jim's blood had been different ever since Bones had used Khan's blood to heal him... But he didn't have any of the super-human benefits that augments did. After the initial injection that healed him, all of his systems had checked out in the normal human range. Except for his blood. A faint residue of Khan's DNA had been left behind. Bones had never been able to quite pinpoint the reason for the change, but it had never inconvenienced Jim except for the slight unease knowing that he still had a part of that monster inside of him.

Until now... After all this time it seemed that man was still fucking Jim over. The procedure that had saved Jim's life from fatal radiation poisoning had been deemed classified by Starfleet, but that didn't seem to matter right now. At least not to these men who were torturing him because they thought he was an augment.

Besides, Starfleet technically didn't even exist yet in this time. They couldn't exactly court martial him.

"I'm not an augment. An augment's blood was used to heal me once. I'm not..."

"A fucking sympathizer." The man who was apparently in charge of the other two spat the words out with perhaps even more disgust than before. "We'll show you what happens when you betray your own kind."

And he did. For a very long time.


	2. Chapter 2

As Jim lay on the floor of his cell, he couldn't help but admire the irony of his situation. A year and a half ago he'd been prepared to chase down 'John Harrison' to the ends of the universe in order to bring the man who had killed Admiral Pike, his friend, to justice. Things hadn't exactly gone according to plan, what with learning Admiral Marcus intended to start a war with the Klingons, finding out that the torpedoes Marcus had given him had contained 72 frozen augments from the twentieth century, Khan's crew. Then he had been forced to align with Khan against Admiral Marcus, only to have Khan turn on him, kill Marcus, and try to blow up his ship and crew. If not for Spock's quick thinking, Khan would have gotten away with it. Jim had actually _died_ in order to save his ship and crew, and had only been saved by Bones' quick thinking and Spock's even quicker actions when he apprehended Khan after the mad bastard had crashed the _Vengeance_ into Starfleet Headquarters.

Khan's trial and sentencing had been swift, and in Jim's opinion the bastard had gotten off lightly. The man had killed so many in his quest for vengeance: those killed when the Kelvin Memorial Archive in London had been bombed by Thomas Harewood, the officers Khan had murdered in cold blood in the Daystrom conference room of Starfleet Headquarters, an entire Klingon patrol... Not to mention some of Jim's crew members who had perished as the _Enterprise_ plummeted out of control into Earth's atmosphere. And of course the hundreds injured and killed with the crash of the _Vengeance,_ aptly named apparently. Being sentenced to return to cryogenic sleep with the rest of his crew was definitely the least of what Khan deserved.

Khan should have been rotting away in a cold dark cell for the rest of his life. Maybe they could have given the augment to a Romulan or Klingon penal colony, in a harsh kind of an outreach program. But, no, the Federation was too civilized for that. Khan would never have been tossed into a dark hole, beaten and starved, no matter how much he might deserve it. Instead it was _Jim_ suffering those things, stuck in Khan's time. Oh, the irony. He'd literally _died_ attempting to bring Khan to justice, and now he was the one suffering what should have been Khan's fate.

Jim couldn't really blame the men who'd found him for reacting the way they had. He knew what the augments had done to the human race. The Eugenics Wars had lasted roughly four years, between 1992 and 1996, and during that time, more than thirty million people had been killed. When the augments had seized power simultaneously in over forty nations, entire populations who had not submitted had been bombed out of existence. Those who had survived were treated little better than slaves until the remaining humans finally managed to band together and drive the augments out of power.

Was it any surprise these humans had reacted to Jim the way they had, thinking he was one of those monsters, especially when there was no way Jim could prove otherwise? So, no, he couldn't blame them. But Jim could certainly blame Khan, considering the man was almost single-handedly responsible for nearly plunging the entire Earth into another dark age because of his ambition and thirst for power.

As Jim lay on the floor, pain making his entire body throb from the mere act of breathing, he began to wonder if Admiral Marcus had the right idea after all. Maybe he should have simply given Khan and his crew back to Marcus. After all, they had been condemned as war criminals three hundred years ago. Maybe it _was_ Starfleet's duty to carry out their sentence. Maybe it was Jim's duty now...

If the Eugenics Wars were still being fought, Khan would still be on Earth during this time. Probably still at the height of his power. If Jim could get to him, find a way to kill the man before he could escape Earth...

Jim had already seen the dangers of time travel, the elder Spock was proof enough of what could happen when the timeline was disrupted. But if Khan died in this time...so many lives could be saved, not only in this time, but in Jim's time as well. Admiral Pike could still be alive. Maybe Admiral Marcus never would have tried to start a war if he had never found the augment's ship. Jim couldn't see a downside of Khan dying before he could kill so many people that Jim cared about.

Of course any idea Jim might have of getting to Khan, or even getting back to his own time wouldn't matter unless Jim could get out of his current situation. He had to find a way to escape, but in his current condition his chances were very slim. He was so badly beaten he could barely move, much less try to get out of his cell and overpower his guards.

He had to think of something. He'd gotten out of worse situations before, hadn't he? All he needed was one opening...

The heavy metal door to the cell swung open with a loud clang. Jim couldn't help but flinch upon hearing it and even that small movement made his entire body scream in agony. Despite the pain, Jim curled in on himself as much as he could while lying on the cold stone floor. It was the only thing he could do to protect himself. But when no harsh words or violence came, he slowly allowed himself to look up towards the door.

A young woman stood on the threshold, carrying a tray that contained a bowl, bandages and other things Jim couldn't readily identify. She had dark hair, and dark eyes looked at him with a mixture of wariness and pity. She was shoved into the cell with him and the door closed behind her with another loud bang. She stared at Jim for a long time before hesitantly approaching him. Her voice, when she spoke, was soft and not unkind, but also fearful. However, he couldn't understand her words since his universal translator had been confiscated along with his clothes and everything else. Jim shook his head slightly trying to convey this.

"I don't...understand..." he managed to croak out through his abused throat and she paused.

"American?" she asked, her English heavily accented but still understandable. He nodded. She slowly knelt down next to him and placed the tray on the ground. "I am here to tend to you," she explained.

"Water?" he pleaded, and she paused before nodding and reaching for the bowl on the tray. She helped him to sit up enough so as not to spill the water while he drank. She insisted he sip it slowly so he wouldn't be sick, despite how much Jim wanted to gulp down the cool clear liquid. When he'd drunk enough, she carefully eased him down again.

"Is this the good cop, bad cop routine?" he said hoarsely, only half-joking, and she frowned obviously not comprehending what he meant. Jim sighed wearily. "Never mind."

She looked at him for a long moment before carefully nodding. She picked up a cloth from the tray and dipped it into the water before using it to clean some of the blood from the cuts on his face. Jim winced and she looked at him with sympathy.

"I am sorry," she said softly, and Jim had a feeling she didn't just mean the pain she'd inadvertently caused while trying to help him. If she was sympathetic to his plight, maybe she could help him.

"What's your name?" he asked, and she looked at him in surprise.

"Myrian," she answered, glancing towards the door as though expecting to be punished for speaking to him. It made Jim feel nervous; he didn't want to get the young woman into trouble with his captors, but he needed at least one ally. He wasn't going to get out of here without help.

"I'm Jim. Nice to meet you, Myrian." He gave the young woman his most winning smile. Or at least it would have been, had his face not been so badly bruised. But she smiled hesitantly in return. It was good to know Jim still had it when it counted, even if he looked little better than a tenderized piece of meat. "Myrian, can you tell me...if they found anyone else like me?"

That had been Jim's biggest worry, besides fretting about his own fate, that these men might have found more of his crew stranded out there and given them the same 'welcome' Jim had received. Though they might have been spared the worst of it given that they wouldn't have had augment DNA floating around in their blood. But any of Jim's non-human crew might have received similar, or worse, treatment.

Myrian paused while cleaning one of the deeper cuts on his chest, again glancing nervously to the door.

"You were the only one found on the last patrol," she replied, and Jim decided to take that as a good sign. Either it meant none of his crew had been found yet, or no one but him had been sent back to this hellhole. Of course that also meant Jim couldn't expect any help from known allies. So he would either have to make new ones, or rely only on himself. Well, wouldn't be the first time.

Jim was quiet for a time, watching while the young woman worked. She was quick and efficient. Bones would have been impressed, especially with what she had to work with. Jim had a feeling she had done this before. He bit his lip hard to stifle a moan of pain that tried to escape when she moved to his back, which had by far gotten the worst treatment during his 'questioning'.

"Do you know...what they're going to do to me?" he asked. It would be helpful to know how much time he had to work with, if he could risk waiting to heal more, or if he should try to find a way out now, despite the fact that he could barely move. If they had sent this woman here to tend to him, Jim hoped that meant they weren't planning on killing him any time soon.

She froze abruptly and Jim tried to look over his shoulder to see her reaction, but the movement simply hurt too much, and he was forced to remain on his side.

"They will come for you in the morning." She answered so softly he could barely hear her. Jim frowned.

"They who?" he asked nervously. Were they going to torture him again? Hadn't they figured out that if he hadn't told them anything useful by now, he didn't know anything?

"They will want to study you. There are not many...like you."

"Like me?"

But she didn't get a chance to answer him as the cell door was thrown open and a man barked an order at the young woman in a language Jim couldn't understand. She quickly gathered up her things and rose to her feet.

"I'm sorry," she whispered softly to him before hurrying out of his cell. Jim was alone again.

Well, that hadn't told him much, except perhaps that he definitely wanted to get out of here sooner rather than later. Especially if their idea of 'studying' was anything like their idea of 'questioning'.

* * *

The door to Jim's cell banged open.

"Get up!" a man barked, but the body lying on the floor of the cell didn't move. He did not even appear to be breathing.

Frowning, the man leveled his weapon at the prisoner as he slowly approached. The body on the floor was turned away and from him and he couldn't see his face. He jabbed the end of his gun hard into the prisoner's back but he still didn't move.

They would not be happy if the man had died during the night...

The man lowered his weapon and knelt down, pulling on the other man's shoulder in order to turn him over, and that's when Jim struck. He quickly jabbed the small knife -palmed from Myrian's tray and sharpened on the rough stone wall- into the man's jugular before he could call for help. The man flailed as his hand came up to try to stop the rush of blood pumping from his neck. Jim forced himself to feel no pity as he stabbed the man over and over until finally the body went limp.

Every move he made was agony, but Jim forced himself to keep going, stripping off the man's clothes and pulling them on himself, doing his best to ignore the blood stains. He took the man's weapon, a rifle of some kind, and pocketed the small knife. Standing was difficult, nearly impossible, and he needed the help of the wall to drag himself upright and to stay there.

Another man entered his cell, probably coming to see what was taking the first man so long, and Jim didn't hesitate shooting him with the weapon. He wasn't quite prepared for the noise, or the recoil that almost sent him back to the ground, but his aim proved true and the other man went down with a huge bloody hole through his middle. Jim didn't bother to check if the man was alive. He knew he wasn't. Jim couldn't let himself care. He might sympathize with these humans, but that didn't mean he was going to let them torture and kill him.

Jim made his way out of the cell, using the wall for support and holding his weapon ready to use it if necessary. He was a little surprised the noise hadn't drawn more attention. Jim passed by rows of cells he didn't bother looking into towards what he assumed was the exit. It was the only open door.

The hallways beyond twisted back and forth like a maze. He quickly became lost and had no idea what direction he needed to go in order to escape. Jim rounded a corner and was forced to shoot two more men in his path. It was pretty clear these men, whoever they were, were not soldiers. Probably just refugees fighting to survive the war.

Jim rounded another corner and a woman's surprised scream thankfully made him pause before pulling the trigger. Myrian's dark eyes were wide with shock and fear. He started to lower his weapon to show her he didn't mean to hurt her. But her eyes only widened more as she looked beyond him.

"Look out!" she cried, and Jim turned just before hearing the gun shots ring out behind him. One of the bullets grazed his shoulder but thankfully it wasn't enough to throw off his aim. He shot the man who'd come up behind him then turned back to the young woman. His eyes widened when he saw her slumped on the floor, a growing pool of red staining her chest.

"Myrian!" He dropped down beside her and started pulling open her blouse to examine the wound, even though he was certain it had been a fatal shot. Her eyes fluttered open and she coughed, blood staining her lips. He pressed his hands over the gaping wound, even though he knew it was futile.

"I'm sorry..." Jim whispered, and surprisingly she smiled at him. Her small hands came up to cover his and tried to pull them away. "Don't... I can..." He tried to reason with her but she finally managed to pry his hands away with a surprising amount of strength. Then, to his complete shock, Jim watched as the gaping wound began to knit together right before his eyes. Jim's eyes went wide with understanding. "You're an augment..."

He slowly backed away from her, raising his weapon once more and pointing it at her. She didn't seem very surprised by this, a sad kind of understanding filling her eyes. She slowly got back to her feet.

"Come with me," she said and started walking down the hall. When Jim didn't follow, she gave him an exasperated look. "There is no time . Come with me if you want to live."

Without much choice, Jim followed. She led him in a twisting path, somehow managing to avoid any more encounters. They didn't stop until they reached a ladder leading to an old rusted hatch above.

"Go," she said. "Head east. You will be safe there." It could be the way out, or it could be a trap. Of course, if she wanted him dead she could have easily overpowered him in his current state.

"Why are you helping me?" Jim still asked suspiciously.

"Just go," she replied with a small shake of her head and started back the way they had come. He knew he should do what she said. By now his escape was probably common knowledge. They would be looking for him. But Jim still didn't move.

"Why are you helping _them_?" he finally asked. He didn't understand why she would stay here if she knew how to get out, especially when these men obviously hated augments.

She stopped and looked back at him.

"They have my children," Myrian answered, and Jim stood stunned, not knowing how to respond. The young woman finally frowned at him. "Go! Before you get us all killed."

So Jim went.


	3. Chapter 3

Jim stumbled and fell, landing hard with a groan of pain and weariness on the unforgiving ground. He had no idea how long he had been walking. It had still been night when he crawled out of what he could only assume had once been a sewer system in the middle of a ruined twentieth century city. Having no idea where to go, but knowing he could not remain where he was, Jim headed east. He hadn't had to use his knowledge about navigating by Earth's stars since primary school, but it certainly came in handy now.

He stuck to back alleys and picked his way through ruined buildings as much as he could to remain out of sight. He reached the edge of the city some time before dawn and kept going. The barren open landscape left him feeling vulnerable, especially once the sun began to rise, and Jim constantly looked over his shoulder expecting pursuit. But by the time the sun had reached directly overhead, Jim was less concerned about being found and killed, and more concerned about dying of heat stroke or thirst.

He hadn't been given any food, and the only water he'd received during his imprisonment was given to him by Myrian; there hadn't exactly been time for him to attempt to stock up before he'd escaped. Now sweat plastered down his short hair and his skin felt dangerously flushed. His clothes were stiff, and stuck to him with dried blood, dust, and sweat. His breathing was too fast and shallow, his lungs felt tight, and he couldn't stop coughing in the dry air. His heartbeat was rapid and weak. Jim barely had the strength to keep his eyes open where he lay, much less muster the energy it would take to get back to his feet. But he knew if he didn't keep moving, he was as good as dead anyway.

He was Jim Kirk, damn it. He was not going to die here like this, alone in the dirt.

Forcing his arms beneath him, Jim began to push himself up with a pained groan. His arms shook, his breathing grew even more ragged, and he swayed dangerously on his feet, but the important thing was he was upright. He focused on nothing except putting one foot in front of the other. He just had to keep moving. His vision blurred, and darkened around the edges, but that didn't matter since there was nothing to see anyway - just dirt and rocks in a vast dead wasteland.

In his more lucid moments, Jim wondered if this was what the augment woman had wanted when she told him to go east. Maybe she wanted him to die alone in a vast barren wasteland. Maybe that was why no one had come after him. Maybe they were all laughing at Jim's stupidity right now while he literally walked himself to death.

Finally, the sun began to set. Jim was starting to get cold; he couldn't stop trembling and didn't know whether it was from the dropping temperature or if he was going into shock. He stumbled more and more but somehow he managed not to fall. He didn't think he would be able to get up again if he fell.

He didn't even notice at first when he heard a rumbling sound in the distance. When he did notice it, he thought it might be the sound of thunder. Maybe it was going to rain? Rain meant water. But he quickly realized the sound was too constant. The rumbling was definitely getting closer however.

Jim lifted his head and shielded his eyes from the glare of the setting sun. Even though the sun was behind him now, the reflected light off of the ground was still blinding, and heat waves distorted his vision. However, as he blinked the grit from his eyes and forced his uncooperative vision to focus, he began to make out several vehicles in the distance. They were getting closer.

Panic began to make Jim's heart beat even faster. He was out in the open. There was nowhere for him to hide. Only then he realized he must have dropped his rifle at some point, maybe when he had fallen, and was now virtually defenseless. All he had left was the small blade he'd pocketed, and he had a feeling it wasn't going to do him much good.

Jim took it in hand anyway; he wasn't going to go down without a fight. The vehicles finally came to a rumbling stop not far from him. They were large and armored, running on some type of fossil fuel going by the smell. Jim couldn't make out any details however, due to his blurred and doubled vision. Men emerged from the vehicles and Jim heard the telltale clicking that signified they were readying weapons far superior to his.

One of the men approached him. He was speaking to Jim but he didn't think he could have understood the man through the ringing in his ears, even if the man had been speaking a language Jim understood. Jim shook his head as he tried to back away from the man, his fist tightening in a death grip around his blade, even though it would probably be useless. The man paused, then gestured back to his companions. The weapons pointed at him were lowered. It was obvious that Jim was no threat whatsoever.

That thought only fueled Jim's anger and desperation. When the man started towards him again Jim lashed out with the blade. The man easily dodged his clumsy attack and caught Jim by the wrist. Jim thrashed, trying to pull his arm away, the effort proving too much for his weakened body and he began to fall. The knife fell from his suddenly-limp fingers. Now the man wasn't restraining him so much as supporting him.

"Don't... Please don't..." Jim begged pathetically. The man shouted back to his companions, sounding almost alarmed. Jim was lowered to the ground with surprising gentleness. As his vision began to grow dark, Jim heard the man speak to him again.

"It's all right. You're safe now."

Jim didn't believe him. But he didn't have any choice either.

* * *

He was in a bed. A rather comfortable bed in fact. Jim slowly opened his eyes and blinked in the golden sunlight filtering in through the window. He heard a constant soft beeping in time with his steady heartbeat. He looked down at himself and saw that most of his body wrapped in thick clean bandages and there were several wires and tubes stuck in various places. He felt heavy and numb, blessedly numb, considering the pain he remembered before losing consciousness. He must be drugged, and though he was grateful for how it dulled the pain, he didn't like the sluggishness of his thoughts, especially when he had no idea where he was or how he'd gotten here.

At least his new accommodation seemed a bit better than his previous one. He realized he must be in some kind of medical facility, but he didn't know whether that was a good thing or a bad thing. It was probably the only reason he was alive now, but what if he had been saved just to be tortured again, or 'studied' as the augment woman had put it?

Jim flinched when he heard a door open and a young man with short brown hair, blue eyes, and wearing a white coat entered his room. If the man was surprised to see that Jim was awake, he didn't show it, but he did give Jim a surprisingly kind smile. He spoke but once again Jim could not understand what was being said to him. It was frustrating and Jim again mourned the loss of his universal translator. Seeing Jim's lack of comprehension, the doctor looked thoughtfully at him before speaking again. He rattled off a few words until Jim finally understood the word 'English' and realized the man was asking him what language he spoke. Jim nodded and the man smiled again.

"Good morning. My name is Doctor Vivek. It is good to see you're awake," the young man, his doctor apparently, said. His voice was accented but perfectly understandable. He approached Jim's bed. Jim unconsciously flinched away when the man reached towards him, unable to disguise his distrust. The young doctor didn't miss Jim's reaction and held up his hands. "You don't need to be afraid. No one will harm you here."

Jim licked his dry lips and coughed to clear his throat, though is voice was still weak and scratchy when he spoke.

"Where am I?" he asked hoarsely. "How did I get here?"

"You were picked up by a routine patrol nearly a week ago. You were suffering from severe dehydration and blood loss. Your wounds were beginning to turn septic as well. The soldiers brought you here just in time; a few more hours and you probably would have died." The doctor spoke plainly and Jim swallowed hard. It wasn't the first, or closest, brush with death Jim had had but that still didn't mean it was easy to hear how close he'd been again.

"Thank you," Jim said after a time, deciding it was only polite to thank the one who'd probably saved his life, even if he was still suspicious of his savior's intentions. The young man nodded and picked up a chart at the foot of Jim's bed on which he began to write some notes.

"Will you tell me how you became so gravely injured?" the doctor asked and Jim immediately became nervous. He had been mistaken for an augment by humans and nearly tortured to death. He had been helped by an augment woman for reasons he still didn't understand. He had no idea who it was safe to trust. It was probably safer that he didn't trust anyone.

So Jim said nothing. The doctor did not seem at all surprised by his lack of answer. His gaze turned sympathetic.

"I know you have been through a great deal. I treated your wounds and I know signs of torture when I see them. I promise you, you are safe now, and those responsible will be punished. Such crimes are not tolerated. You should rest now. Someone will come to speak to you soon about what was done to you. Please talk to them." He replaced the chart at the foot of Jim's bed and checked the monitoring equipment attached to Jim one more time before leaving the room.

He didn't give Jim time to ask, 'what if I don't?'

* * *

'They' didn't come to see Jim for quite a while in fact. Nurses came and went to check up on Jim's progress, to change his bandages, give him more painkillers, offering him food and drink, and generally seeing about his wellbeing. It was not so different from Jim's stay in Starfleet medical after his brush with death with the warp core.

What bothered him most was he couldn't tell whether the people who were tending him were humans or augments. Jim was afraid to ask and give himself away as one or the other. Though, if those men hiding out in a ruined sewer system had been able to do a DNA check in order to discover whether he was an 'augment,' certainly these people could have done the same. Their technology seemed advanced enough, certainly more advanced than whatever scraps those refugees might have been able to scrounge up.

But then, they also had to know that even though his cells contained augment DNA, he wasn't a true augment. He wasn't healing nearly fast enough; that bullet to the chest Myrian had taken had closed within minutes! So...

Jim sighed in frustration. None of the people here had treated Jim with anything except kindness and compassion since he'd woken up, and Jim certainly didn't want to give them reason to do otherwise. But sooner or later they were going to find out that Jim didn't belong here, whether human or augment, Jim was an outsider. Jim was certain that he wouldn't want to be here when that happened. But he was in no shape to attempt to run. Even if he did manage to escape, without treatment the infections in his system would probably kill him in a matter of days.

When 'they' finally came, Jim knew immediately they were military of some kind from the uniforms they wore. There were only two of them: an older, refined looking man with salt-and-pepper hair and a neatly trimmed mustache and beard. The younger man had short cropped dark hair and intense dark eyes that watched Jim with unmistakable suspicion. It made Jim feel immediately uneasy.

Seeming to sense his unease, the elder man spoke to the younger, and the younger man retreated, presumably to wait outside for the elder man to finish with Jim. It made Jim feel only marginally better. He certainly did not relax when the elder man turned his attention back to him, even though the look in the man's eyes was not unkind. Jim knew when he was being scrutinized.

"I'm told you are American," the man said as he approached Jim's bed and sat down in a chair that had so far been unoccupied during Jim's stay. Jim nodded slowly. It was accurate enough. He might not have been born there, but he had lived in Iowa for most of his life. "My name is Colonel Abhay. I will be handling your debriefing."

Jim wasn't sure how to respond, so he remained silent.

"You were gravely injured when the patrol found you. Can you tell me how you came to be in the condition you were found?" the colonel asked.

"Some men found me. They took me captive. Asked me questions I couldn't answer, and beat me. A woman helped me escape, told me to head east, said I would be safe," Jim answered hesitantly. It was the truth, and it was also completely useless information, telling his interrogator almost nothing. The colonel didn't look like a man who would be easily fooled by such evasive answers, but at the same time, he didn't call Jim on it. He simply nodded.

"Did you know the men who took you captive?"

Jim shook his head.

"Could you find your way back to their base?" the man asked and Jim hesitated in answering.

"I don't know. I wasn't very...lucid after a while. I tried to head directly east, but I could have easily wandered off-course in my condition. I don't remember much about it, except it was in the middle of a ruined city. Underground."

The man listened intently to every word, nodding in encouragement whenever he faltered. Jim found it surprisingly easy to talk, even though he had no reason to really trust this man. Maybe it was because he exuded a kind of quiet strength and support Jim had always felt around Admiral Pike. The memory of his lost friend made Jim's heart clench painfully.

"How did you come to be in their custody?"

Jim swallowed hard, not knowing how to answer that. He couldn't exactly tell the man that he'd been found after Jim fell through some kind of temporal vortex from three hundred years into the future. So Jim had no way to explain how he had been there to find in the first place. Considering Jim was obviously a foreigner, it would be highly suspicious.

"I...don't remember." Jim answered. The man raised an eyebrow at him and Jim tried not to fidget nervously. "I woke up in an alley. I don't know how I got there. I...don't even know where I am now."

The man frowned at Jim's words, steepling his fingers underneath his chin in thought for a few moments before finally nodding.

"What is your name?" the colonel asked and that admittedly threw Jim a little.

"Jim... Jim Kirk."

"Mr. Kirk, you are in New Delhi, the capital city of India," the man said and Jim felt himself pale considerably. He almost couldn't believe it. What the hell were the chances that he'd ended up right in the center of Khan's territory? "The men who found you... We believe they are part of a rogue band of humans seeking to overthrow the authority of Emperor Singh."

Jim felt bile rise up in the back of his throat at the mere mention of Khan's name. If he needed any more poof of exactly where and when he was, and how fucked he was...

"They have been raiding outlying villages for months now, kidnapping and killing innocents. Women and children."

_'They have my children.'_

"Any information you can give us to find and apprehend these criminals would help a great deal. Could save countless lives." God damn the man for sounding so fucking reasonable.

"I can't help you," Jim replied tightly, and it was true. In more ways than one.

* * *

The colonel had left with surprisingly little fuss. No threats were made. No ultimatums. The man had simply wished him a speedy recovery and informed him the hospital staff could contact him immediately if Jim remembered any useful information.

Jim waited days for the other shoe to drop. The more time that passed the more nervous he became. There was no way that was the end of it. It couldn't be that easy.

Turned out he was right.

The young man with the intense eyes who had accompanied the colonel the first time returned six days later, this time without the colonel. Jim felt his entire body grow tense the moment he entered his hospital room. Though Jim was indeed making a rapid recovery, he was still far from feeling one hundred percent. Probably not even at fifty percent yet; he still couldn't even get out of bed on his own. Doctor Vivek followed the man into the room, looking rather uncomfortable, which did nothing for Jim's nerves either.

"You are being transferred today. I am sorry." The doctor told Jim, and he merely nodded in resignation. Jim had been waiting for this, after all. There wasn't much else he could do. The doctor and nurses worked around him, getting him ready, and finally transferring him to a rolling bed. The man from the military watched all of this impassively.

Finally Jim was taken from his hospital room to a transport of some kind. The trip was surprisingly short. He was removed from the transport and taken to a room that felt stark and cold, but was still a far cry from the cold stone cell he'd been thrown in before. The doctors and nurses who transferred him to his new bed did so professionally and without malice. He was not treated roughly in the least. The man still watched all of this with his intense stare that sent shivers down Jim's spine.

When the new hospital staff was done attaching the sensors and other machines to Jim, they departed and the man from the military moved to leave as well. He never said a word to Jim. Anger rose up in Jim at the obvious passive-aggressive routine, even though it was better than outright aggression he supposed. It was enough to embolden Jim to speak before the man left the room.

"Why am I here?" Jim asked, He honestly half-expected the man to ignore him and leave. Instead the man turned back to him.

"That is what we are going to find out."

Jim didn't like the sound of that.


	4. Chapter 4

The waiting was killing him.

It had been three days since Jim had been 'transferred'. Imprisoned was probably the more accurate term. Though he didn't have any proof, Jim was certain he was being kept in a military facility now rather than a civilian one. That would make any escape attempt harder. Maybe even impossible.

The room he was kept in had no windows so Jim only knew the passage of time by how often the doctors and nurses came either to tend to his injuries or bring him food and water. Though he wasn't treated badly and he was receiving more than adequate treatment for his injuries, no one would speak to him or answer his questions. Whenever the door opened, Jim could see a guard standing outside his room. The camera in the upper corner of his room also pretty much prevented Jim from doing anything except lying in his bed like a good boy. The whole set-up was rather efficient in its simplicity.

Jim was in the middle of eating his lunch when the man from the military finally returned. The man's cold stare was always unnerving, reminding him too much of another, and Jim immediately tensed and slowly lowered his spoon back to his tray. The pudding, or whatever it was, he'd been given for 'dessert' wasn't all that good anyway.

"Where is Colonel Abhay?" Jim asked before the dark-haired man could speak, not that he thought the colonel would protect him or anything, but he was hoping to unnerve the young man with the question. It didn't exactly work as planned.

"Colonel Abhay is busy with other matters today, but I can relay the message that you wish to speak to him later. I cannot promise anything, however," the young man replied, basically boiling down to 'tough shit, now you have to deal with me'. Jim frowned slightly but didn't reply. The dark-haired man seemed to take that as permission to get things underway and came to sit in the chair beside Jim's bed. He folded his hands in his lap and gave Jim a measured look.

"Is this when you threaten to torture me if I don't tell you what you want to know?" Jim asked flippantly, trying to cover up his nervousness. The other man raised an eyebrow at him.

"Do I need to?" he asked with complete seriousness and Jim scowled. "My name is Kabir. I will be questioning you for the next several days. For your sake, I suggest telling the truth."

"I haven't lied to any of you," Jim replied, and for the most part that was true. Except for not telling them about how he'd gotten here, which would just make them think he was crazy.

"Why don't we start with how you came to India," Kabir continued as though Jim hadn't spoken, and he cursed silently. Of course they'd focus on that first, the weakest part of Jim's story. Thankfully Jim had had a few days to revise his previous testimony and come up with what he hoped would be a more convincing explanation.

"I told you, I don't know how I got here. I'd been traveling and suddenly I blacked out. I think I was drugged. When I woke up I was alone in an alley with nothing but the clothes on my back. I tried to find help. That didn't turn out very well." Jim didn't bother to contain his bitterness as he said the last part; the memory of being nearly beaten to death with a fucking whip wasn't exactly a pleasant one.

Unfortunately Kabir didn't seem all that sympathetic to Jim's experience.

"Traveling. Not exactly a safe practice these days," he commented, making it pretty obvious he didn't believe Jim's story. "Where are you from then, Mr. Kirk?"

"Iowa. America," Jim replied, feeling a little thrown off by the sudden shift in the questioning.

"So I assume you have family there? Someone who can confirm your identity?" Kabir asked, and Jim felt sweat roll down the back of his neck.

"No."

"No?" Kabir asked, though his expression did not match his tone. The man didn't look at all surprised by Jim's answer.

"No family. Not anymore," Jim stated without emotion. There was a war going on after all, it couldn't be that uncommon for a man to be alone in the world. "Why?"

"Because, quite simply, Mr. Kirk, you are a man who does not exist. There is no record of your birth. No fingerprint match in any database. No dental records. You are not registered in any country in this world. You can imagine how suspicious that looks?"

Jim felt his heart pound against his ribs in growing anxiety. Was that what they had been doing these last several days, some kind of background check on him? Why hadn't Jim thought of that? Maybe because so many records from this time had been lost, he hadn't considered they would be capable of it. Apparently he was wrong. He was, in a word, screwed.

If Kabir noticed Jim's growing tension, he did not show it.

"Believe me, Mr. Kirk. If not for your benefactor, we'd be having this discussion very differently." Kabir stated, and Jim couldn't hide his surprise.

"Benefactor?"

"You have been marked as superior, by Emperor Singh no less. A great honor." Kabir stated this as though the answer should have been obvious, and it was highly suspicious (as though Jim wasn't suspicious enough) that he didn't know. Jim was too busy reeling from the information however to worry too much about that.

Khan. Khan's DNA in his blood. Not only did they have the technology to observe traces of augmented DNA inside of him, but they could tell _whos_ e it was? And they thought that Khan had done it, _marke_ d him, on purpose. The next step was only logical. Contacting Jim's 'benefactor' in order to confirm Jim's identity.

Jesus fucking Christ.

"Perhaps you would like to tell me how you escaped the custody of the men who captured you?" Kabir finally asked, and Jim forced himself to focus on the present.

"I told you, a woman helped me-"

" _How_ did you escape? Exactly." Kabir interrupted him, and Jim swallowed hard.

"I killed a man..." Jim began and Kabir nodded for him to continue. "When Myrian came to tend to my wounds, I stole a knife from her supplies without her knowledge. She told me they were going to 'study' me in the morning. I didn't want to wait around to find out what that meant. When they came for me, I played dead, and stabbed him when he got close."

Jim closed his eyes remembering the feeling of the blood on his hands. The choking gurgling sounds the man had made as he fought for his life had made Jim want to retch but it hadn't stopped him from continuing to stab the man over and over until he finally went still. Jim hadn't wanted to kill him. He hadn't wanted to kill any of them. He hadn't had any choice. Not if he wanted to live.

"I took his weapon and clothes and escaped. Myrian found me and led me out of their base. I asked her why she didn't leave, and she said it was because they had her children. She told me to leave, and I did." Jim still felt guilt at leaving her behind. She had helped him, and he had not been able to help her. He had run instead.

Silence stretched for a long time after Jim's confession.

"Tell me again how you came to be in India," Kabir repeated, and Jim barely stopped himself from groaning in frustration.

* * *

 

The questioning went on for several hours and it was exhausting, both physically and mentally. Between trying to control his rising panic and coming up with convincing enough lies to explain things that Jim couldn't possibly explain, Jim felt completely wrung out by the time Kabir excused himself with a promise to return the next day. It was safe to say, Jim was not looking forward to it.

What did it really matter? He was completely fucked. If they went to Khan... The man wouldn't know who Jim was, but how was that any better? Jim had the man's fucking DNA inside of him with no rational way to explain it. Maybe Jim should have just come clean about the whole time-traveling thing. They would think he was completely insane but it couldn't possibly be any worse than what Khan would do to him...

He needed to get out of here. There was no other option for him right now. If he found a way to escape he might still die from his wounds, if he stayed he would definitely be killed once he was done being questioned. After most likely being tortured again. There was no way Khan would offer him anything resembling mercy. Jim would take his chances with escape.

The only question was how. But if nothing else, recent events had shown Jim exactly what he was capable of when he was desperate.

* * *

 

Kabir entered the monitoring room and stood at attention, waiting with absolute patience to be addressed or dismissed. He was a fine soldier and very good at what he did. It was the reason he had been promoted to his chief intelligence officer, despite the fact that he was human. Superior ability was always recognized, no matter what form. Kabir's interrogations almost always produced the information they sought, sooner or later. The young man was very proud of his success. Which was why it was so amusing to watch him utterly fail when dealing with Kirk.

"That went... well," he finally stated, not bothering to hide his amusement, and he saw a muscle in Kabir's jaw twitch in annoyance.

"I apologize for my failure-" the young man started and he simply waved the apology away. He was in no mood for groveling today. Kabir immediately fell silent and he turned his attention back to the screen.

He could practically see the wheels turning in Kirk's, head. No doubt he was contemplating escape. The man was certainly no fool. He was also no coward; his experiences in the hands of the rebels had proven that much. Kirk was obviously terrified of what would happen to him, but he hid it well. Even the 'threat' of further torture had not been enough to leave the young man cowering.

He couldn't help but admire this young human, as much as he also infuriated him. Why did he stubbornly cling to his lies? He didn't get the sense that Kirk was a terrorist or assassin. No, he had too much of a conscience, as the way he spoke of the augment woman who had helped him, and the obvious regret he felt at the necessity to kill in order to escape the rebels plainly showed. This was not a man used to killing.

Besides, if Kirk truly was an enemy agent, he would have had better lies prepared. Also, it was strange that he seemed completely ignorant of facts that any man living in this world should know. If Kirk was an enemy agent he was either the most incompetent, or brilliant, one he'd ever encountered.

Who was this man?

"The tests were conclusive?" he asked after a time.

"Yes sir. There is no doubt."

"Interesting." Kirk was just full of mysteries, this one perhaps the most interesting as well as the most disturbing. Kirk was certainly a man he would have remembered. He had not marked him. That meant someone else had, which should have been impossible, but the evidence was right before him. He wanted to know how that had come to pass.

The silence stretched. Kabir continued to wait patiently. He finally turned his whole attention back to the young soldier.

"Arrange a meeting. I wish to speak to him."

Kabir bowed.

"As you wish, Emperor Singh."


	5. Chapter 5

It was late in the night. Jim didn't have a chronometer to prove that, but it had been several hours since he'd been brought his dinner and a nurse had been in afterwards to check up on him and turn down the lights so he could sleep. He had been watching the comings and goings of the staff for long enough to know it would be at least another hour before the nurse made another round, unless there was an emergency. Jim was planning on being long gone before then.  
  
He had no clear direction in mind. His only real goal was to get as far away as he possibly could. After that? He wasn't sure. When he'd escaped the men who'd originally found and tortured him, Myrian had told him to go east, told him that he would be 'safe' there, and he had been content to take that advice since he had no better options. Well, now he knew better. Now that he had found out 'east' had put him directly in the middle of Khan's empire, he had only one direction in mind. Anywhere but here.  
  
Why she had thought he would be 'safe' here, of all places, especially being a human, he wasn't sure. He would probably never find out. He doubted he would ever see her again. But he couldn't afford to regret not being able to help her. He had to concentrate on getting back to his own time, if it was even possible.   
  
Jim's heart throbbed painfully in his chest thinking about home.   
  
He missed his ship. His crew. He wished Bones was here. Or Spock. Spock would have probably already had a plan for getting him home at this point, if he were here. But as there was always a chance that Spock was working on getting Jim back from his time. Most likely Spock would fare better as well, with the far more advanced technology available. If anyone could figure out how Jim had ended up in this time, and how to get him home, it was Spock. But Jim couldn't count on that; he couldn't just sit idle and hope someone else would find a way to help him.   
  
Maybe he was getting ahead of himself. His first task was definitely getting out from under Khan's influence, which wouldn't exactly be easy. Any 'romantic' notions he'd had before of overthrowing Khan and possibly changing his future for the better had disappeared at the very real possibility of meeting the augment again. Before, it had been a mere fantasy, born mostly from pain and hopelessness at his situation. Did that make Jim a coward? Maybe. But he wasn't stupid, or suicidal. At the height of his power, Khan had controlled nearly one quarter of the Earth's entire population. He had massive armies at his command and other augments. Jim was alone. Yes, even if he managed to get out of India, there were the other augment warlords to worry about, but Jim would rather take his chances with them than Khan any day.   
  
First things first, he had to get out of this room.   
  
Jim glanced at the camera in the corner of the room. That was his biggest obstacle in his leaving this place. But Jim had reprogrammed every mechanical device in his uncle's home before he was five years old. He was sure he could find a way to interrupt the feed, he just needed supplies.   
  
Easier said than done. It wasn't like he had any tools and the staff didn't just leave such things lying around. But he managed to discretely cannibalize one of the machines monitoring him, stealing out a few parts that weren't strictly necessary to its primary function. Combining those parts with the device called a "remote control" that operated the "television" he thought he had what he needed. It was difficult to tell with this primitive technology. He wouldn't know for sure until he tested it.  
  
Holding his breath, Jim pressed the button and watched the camera intently. The little red light that Jim assumed meant that the device was functioning blinked out and Jim moved as quickly as he could. He might only have a minute, tops, before someone realized something was wrong.   
  
Jim threw aside the covers and stripped the various tubes from his body. He stood on shaking legs and rushed over to the camera. It was nearly out of his reach, but he was able to pull out the necessary wires. If he understood how the device worked, he should be able to force the camera to replay old footage from several minutes before where it appeared as though Jim was asleep in bed. But, again, he wouldn't know if it worked until he tried it.  
  
Jim held his breath as he reactivated the camera using the remote. The red light came back on. Jim waited. Minutes passed. No alarms. No soldiers rushing in to stop him. Jim breathed a small sigh in relief. Now came the second hardest part: getting past the guard outside his door. Jim could barely stand, he had no weapons, and he seriously doubted he'd be able to overpower the man. Especially if he turned out to be an augment.   
  
Luckily Jim had been paying attention to the rotation of the nurses and other hospital staff that came and went from his room. Soon a petite young redhead -Jim had never managed to get her name despite his attempts to flirt- would come to check on him. Jim planned to be ready when she did. He stripped off the sheets from his bed and pulled off the plastic lining underneath. Then he remade the bed, stuffing his pillows underneath the flimsy covers to look vaguely like a body. It wouldn't fool anyone for very long, but hopefully Jim wouldn't need very long. Then he stood with his back to the wall by the door and waited.  
  
Time seemed to stretch an uncomfortable eternity, his heart beating with painful anticipation in his chest. When the door to his room opened, Jim held his breath. In came the nurse that Jim was expecting, pushing the small cart of supplies as normal. In the relative darkness, she did not see Jim immediately from his position behind the door. The moment the door shut and the nurse started to move towards his bed, Jim pounced. He came up behind the woman and pulled the bed's heavy plastic liner tightly over her head, making it impossible for her to breathe, much less call for help. She immediately began to struggle, her flailing arms hitting Jim's bruised body making the young captain grunt in pain. But he forced himself to hold on. Eventually the woman's struggles weakened, and finally ceased, and she slumped against Jim. Jim lowered her down as carefully as he could, panting hard from exertion, and untangled the plastic from around her head. Jim quickly felt for a pulse and let out a small breath when he found it.   
  
He didn't want to kill the woman; she'd done nothing to harm Jim. Unlike the men who'd first found him.   
  
It took a bit of effort in his weakened state, but Jim managed to haul the woman up and into his hospital bed, then covered her up, making a much more convincing decoy should anyone check on Jim again. Hopefully Jim would be long gone before that.   
  
After checking on the nurse one last time, Jim went through the cart of supplies in search for what he'd need for his next obstacle: getting past the guard standing outside his door. That was going to be the most risky part about all of this, especially if the man was an augment. There was a chance Jim's plan wouldn't work at all, but it was the only one Jim could think of.   
  
He quickly located a syringe, Bones would probably cringe at the primitive medical equipment, but Jim had watched the nurses inject him enough to understand how it functioned. Even an infant could do it. Then Jim located a bottle of solution he hoped would work. It was a pain dampener of some kind the nurses sometimes used on him that had made Jim extremely drowsy. Jim filled the syringe with it, hoping that it, along with surprise, would give him the edge he needed.   
  
Jim took a deep breath, mentally preparing himself for the upcoming fight, and threw open the door. The guard was definitely surprised. Jim could see the shock in the man's eyes as he suddenly tackled the man to the ground. Jim used the time to jam the needle into the man's neck and unload the contents of the syringe. At that point Jim lost whatever advantage he had as the man threw him off with enough force to send Jim sliding to the other side of the hallway and slam hard into the opposite wall.  
  
Definitely an augment. Fuck.   
  
Jim's head spun as he stumbled unsteadily to his feet, but at least his opponent also seemed to be having some trouble standing. Maybe the drugs would help Jim after all. Jim grabbed the first thing he could get his hands on €“ a red metal cylinder attached to the wall €“ and swung it at the other man, much less concerned about hurting him now knowing that he is an augment.   
  
The metal clanged against the side of the man's head with a sickening sound, making Jim cringe a little. The man went down hard and this time didn't get back up. Jim replaced the cylinder on the wall and grabbed the guard's wrists, dragging the man back into his room. He managed to get him into the small lavatory and stripped off the man's clothes. Jim dressed in them quickly and returned to the main room to yank the power cord out from one of the machines there. He returned to the guard and quickly restrained the augment with it.  
  
Hopefully that would give Jim enough time. He pulled the hat down low over his forehead to hide his features as much as possible, and hoped that his luck would hold. At this rate, he might even be able to just walk right out the front door...wherever it was.  
  
Jim made it to a set of doors that reminded him of a turbolift and hoped it would take him where he needed to go. His optimism faded however when the doors slid open to reveal three more armed guards.   
  
He should have known better. It was too easy.  
  
Jim froze. There was nowhere for him to run. They had already spotted him anyway and were already raising their weapons.  
  
Jim started to raise his hands to show he was unarmed, but apparently they didn't care. After several deafening shots, Jim found himself on his back on the floor. His chest was on fire and he was choking on his own blood.  
  


* * *

  
  
"Will he live?" Though the voice was shockingly calm, Kabir shifted nervously where he stood beside the emperor. Despite the mild tone, Kabir knew his leader could not be happy about what had occurred. The gross level of incompetence had nearly allowed Kirk to easily escape, but had ended with the young man's near death instead.   
  
Four bullets to the chest. The aim of their security forces was impeccable as always. Both lungs had been punctured. The heart hadn't been struck directly, but the fragments of bone had come dangerously close. The young man had come close to bleeding out right there on the floor before the emergency medical team had even arrived. Apparently his heart had stopped twice during the long hours of surgery that followed. The young man was barely alive now. Wouldn't be if not for the machines breathing for him.  
  
"Uncertain, sir," Kabir confirmed reluctantly, feeling a flush of embarrassment and anger at the situation. "I will see to it that the guards responsible are disciplined."   
  
While they had only been doing their duty, responding to a potential threat, it could be argued that they had overreacted. Especially considering Kirk had not been armed at the time, even if the man had managed to injure two people in his failed escape attempt.   
  
"Hmm." The emperor made a thoughtful sound as he examined the device that had aided in Kirk's near escape, essentially fashioned from a simple remote control and spare parts, all without any tools. "This man, Kirk, is quite resourceful."  
  
The emperor sounded more intrigued than angry. Still, Kabir felt the hairs on the back of his neck prickle when the emperor finally turned his full attention to him. The emperor's intense eyes were particularly penetrating. Kabir stood straighter at attention.   
  
"How are the injured?" The emperor asked.   
  
"Recovering well, sir. The human nurse that Kirk incapacitated was merely rendered unconscious. She will make a quick recovery. The guard suffered a mild concussion, but has completely recovered now."   
  
The emperor nodded, handing over the device in his hand. "Tell the doctors they may draw my blood to give to him."   
  
Kabir liked to believe he was too disciplined to show his shock at the emperor's words. But something of his astonishment must have shown, because the emperor raised an eyebrow at him.  
  
"You are surprised?"  
  
Kabir nodded, not about to lie to his emperor.  
  
"Yes, sir. This man is most likely a rebel. A traitor," Kabir pointed out. He was not about to question his emperor, he would never dare. But he wondered why his emperor would use his own blood to heal such a man. Surely Kirk was not... worthy.  
  
The emperor smiled grimly at him. "You cannot question dead men," he answered simply. The emperor cast one last look at the pale young man lying nearly lifeless in the bed before turning his attention back to Kabir. "When he recovers, bring him to me."  
  
"Yes, sir."  
  



	6. Chapter 6

Jim woke up with a feeling of deja'vu.  Not merely because he was getting uncomfortably used to waking up in a hospital room, but because this was yet another instance when he never expected to wake up again.  He should be dead.  He was sure of it.  The details were a little fuzzy, but he could remember bits and pieces of his escape attempt; it was too bad his little trip into the past hadn't turned out to be a dream.  He remembered incapacitating the nurse and the guard outside his hospital room.  He remembered being caught by additional security that had not hesitated in shooting him when they saw him.  He remembered the feeling of the projectiles tearing through his chest.  Flesh and bone being ripped apart.  Blood filling his lungs.  He was sure he'd been dying...  
  
Yet here he was.  Still alive.  Such wounds would have been difficult to treat even in Jim's time with much more advanced medical equipment.  Jim looked down at his bandaged chest and hesitantly lifted his hand to touch it.  He felt sore underneath the wrappings but other than that he felt remarkably...whole.    
  
He didn't have long to continue his examination.  The door to his room opened, startling Jim a little and in walked a male nurse that he did not recognize.  He was followed by two guards.  Jim's heart began to beat faster with nervousness, but the guards remained by the door while the nurse came over to him and set a bundle of what looked like clothes on the table beside Jim's bed.    
  
"You are to get dressed," the nurse instructed, and Jim blinked in confusion.  The nurse did not give him a chance to ask any questions however, as he used the controls to make the head of Jim's bed rise, and began unhooking various monitoring equipment from Jim.  He helped Jim put on the clothes he'd brought, Jim's muscles still feeling too weak and uncoordinated to do the job himself.  When the nurse was finished, he stepped away and the security guards took over.    
  
"Do not resist," one of the guards warned, and considering the circumstances, Jim decided to heed his 'advice'.  His wrists were shackled in front of him with a simple pair of metal cuffs, and he was told to stand.  It wasn't easy, especially with his arms restricted, but Jim managed to get to his feet.  He was guided out of the room by the security officers who remained close but did not touch him except when he faltered or stumbled with weakness.    
  
He was led to a vehicle and his two escorts joined him in the back.  His questions of what was happening and where he was being taken were met with stony silence.  His chest felt tight with pain and his heart beat in a fast painful rhythm the entire hour-long trip.  He wasn't sure if his growing anxiety had more to do with his wounds, or his growing fear of what was going to happen to him, but by the time they reached their destination, Jim felt sweaty, shaking, and close to passing out.  The feeling did not get any better when the door to the vehicle opened and he saw where he was.  
  
Jim...had never seen anything like it.  He could only describe it as a palace.  Huge red sandstone walls rose up in front of him decorated in rich intricate carvings.  The architecture looked very old, probably built centuries before even the current one.  Some of the walls looked like they had been damaged and were in the middle of being repaired, but that hardly took away from the beauty of the structure.  Kabir waited for him in front of the ornate entrance and Jim felt his blood go cold.  
  
"Follow me," Kabir ordered without preamble and turned to enter the building.  The guards ushered him forward when Jim hesitated, and he had no choice but to walk or be dragged along. So he walked, he still had some sense of dignity left.  Under other circumstances, Jim would have been fascinated and awed by the beauty of the rich decor around him, the huge marble columns and intricate arches of the halls he was led through, beautiful fountains, frescos on the walls and ceilings, carvings, windows overlooking vast gardens...  But all Jim could focus on was the sick feeling in his gut as the knowledge of where he was...and who he was being taken to...became more certain with every step he took.  
  
His fears were realized when he was brought to a huge room, that despite its ancient origins, appeared to be transformed into a fairly modern - at least by this century's standards - study or library.  It was full of more books - real, paper books - than Jim had ever seen in his lifetime.  Comfortable-looking seating areas with embroidered cushions adorned the room.  Jim noted an intricately carved wooden desk, but more that he didn't really take in, because Jim's eyes almost immediately fixed on the room's occupant.  On the man sitting in one of those comfortable chairs, leisurely reading The man looked up with familiar, piercing eyes when Jim and his escorts entered.  
  
It was Khan... But if Jim hadn't been dreading to see the man since he first realized where, and when he was, he might not have immediately recognized him.  His skin was darker; he had a healthy tan making his skin appear nearly bronze instead of the almost ghostly white that Jim remembered.  Khan's hair was also much longer, worn loose it probably would have reached the middle of the man's back, but now it was held back with a simple, but no doubt expensive, silver clasp.  He wore a dark long sleeved tunic decorated with intricate flower-like designs in silver thread at the collar and cuffs, and was open in the front exposing much of the man's chest.  The man's trousers were of the same dark material and the complete ensemble looked both out of place, and extremely fitting, given what he'd seen of Khan's...palace?  Both extravagant and comfortable at the same time.  He looked absolutely...regal.    
  
Khan's eyes were the same piercing blue that Jim remembered however, and right now they were focused on him with a laser-like intensity.    
  
"Ah, right on time."  Khan's voice seemed different as well, a slightly different accent than Jim remembered, but still extremely cultured and commanding as he gestured to the group standing at the threshold.  "Come in, Mr. Kirk."  
  
Jim didn't move, every muscle in his body frozen taut, but the guards saw to it that he obeyed, practically dragging him further into the room.  Khan raised an eyebrow but did not comment until Jim was forced to stand mere feet from the augment's chair.    
  
"Do take a seat," Khan 'offered' politely, but again, Jim wasn't given much choice, the guards pushing him into the chair across from Khan before he could think to offer a protest.  At least they finally released him and stepped aside once he was sitting.    
  
"Leave us," Khan ordered, and at this Kabir looked surprised.  
  
"Sir?"  The young man protested meekly, but one look from Khan silenced him.  Obviously Khan wasn't a man who needed to repeat himself often.  All three men bowed to their emperor and silently left the room, shutting the door behind them, leaving Khan and Jim alone together.    
  
Khan carefully placed the book he'd been reading on the table next to his chair, his examining eyes never leaving Jim.    While it made Jim extremely nervous it also infuriated him, and, despite his discomfort, Jim met the stare head-on, lifting his chin defiantly.  Even so, he had to clench his hands in his lap to stop himself from shaking.  It was all he could do not to lunge at the man, even knowing that any attack he made would ultimately be useless against the augment.  He still might have attempted it if his hands had not been bound.    
  
"Mr. Kirk..."  Khan repeated his name almost thoughtfully, looking him up and down once again.  Jim refused to squirm no matter how exposed he felt.  Khan gave him what could almost pass as a smile.  "You are looking much recovered from when I last saw you."    
  
Jim remained silent.    
  
More long, painfully awkward moments passed as Khan continued to stare at him.  
  
"You are quite an enigma," Khan said finally, almost to himself.  "You look at me as though you know me.  But I do not know you."  
  
Jim grew even more tense, if that were possible.    
  
"Of course there are many who know who I am, even though they have never met me.  Many who have reason to look at me with fear or anger.  But your hate towards me, I can see...it is personal.  Very curious indeed.  Almost more curious than the fact that you have somehow been exposed to my blood.  I do not know which is the more interesting question, how you were exposed to my blood, or how you managed to survive it?"    
  
Jim blinked in surprise, and Khan smirked infuriatingly at him.  
  
Khan stood, and Jim's paralysis evaporated in an instant.  He jumped to his feet and rounded the chair he'd been sitting in putting it between him and Khan.  There he stood defensively, watching Khan's every move, ready to defend himself if necessary.  Khan raised an eyebrow at him, but otherwise did not comment as he walked over to a small table on which sat several glass decanters.    
  
"Would you like a drink, Mr. Kirk?"  Khan asked him unnervingly politely.  When Jim refused to answer, Khan gave a minute shrug and went about pouring himself a glass of liquid from one of the decanters.  He brought the drink back to the sitting area and resumed his relaxed position in the chair he'd previously occupied.  Jim remained standing.  
  
"Let me tell you what is going to happen now, Mr. Kirk.  I am going to ask you several questions.  Answer them truthfully to my satisfaction, and I will consider releasing you to return to wherever you came from."  Jim couldn't help but snort softly.  As though he believed that for a second...  
  
Khan raised an eyebrow, appearing almost offended.  
  
"You doubt my word?  I can assure you, Mr. Kirk, I have no reason to lie."  Khan's words were loaded with meaning and Jim felt a shiver run through him in spite of himself.  If the augment noticed, he did not comment.  "Refuse to answer, lie, or prove to be a danger to me or my kingdom, and I can assure you, Mr. Kirk, you will regret it."    
  
Jim swallowed hard, and remained silent.  Though as the other man continued to look at him expectantly, he finally nodded in understanding.  
  
"Good.  Now, sit down before you fall down."  It was clearly an order, and though Jim was tempted to refuse, he wasn't ready to risk Khan's wrath so early in the...interrogation.  Also, as much as he hated to admit it, the augment had a point.  He could barely stand on his own two feet without his knees feeling like wet noodles about to buckle beneath him.  He sat.    
  
"Now."  The tone of Khan's voice was the same as Jim remembered from the Vengeance as he uttered the exact same words.  "Shall we begin?"  
  


* * *

  
  
Kirk was afraid.  Khan can practically smell it on him, clinging to his skin like old sweat.  But the young man was no coward.  He'd known that simply from observing the man during Kabir's questioning, how he'd spoken of his escape from the rebels, and of course the young man's bold, if failed, escape attempt from them.  Now, despite the fact that the young man was pale and shaking, despite his attempts to hide his weakness, and barely recovered from his near-fatal wounds, Kirk defiantly met Khan's gaze.  He'd not looked away despite Khan's intense scrutiny.  There were many of Khan's own people who could not claim the same feat.    
  
Indeed, there was much about this man that Khan could not help but find intriguing.  This was a man not afraid of death, and yet, had an unwillingness to kill unless forced to.  He had spared the nurse and guard during his escape attempt from Khan's military hospital, yet had not hesitated to brutally stab a man to death to ensure his escape from the rebels.    
  
Kirk was afraid of him, but the young man's anger was far stronger.  He had a feeling, should he give the younger man the slightest opening, Kirk would not hesitate to try to kill him.  Khan was not about to permit that, despite how curious he was how Kirk might attempt it.  The young man had proved to be quite resourceful.  He was obviously highly intelligent, perhaps even near an augment's level of genius.  Kirk might even surprise him if given the chance to act out on his barely-reigned-in rage.    
  
  
Then of course there was the mystery of how this man, whom Khan had never seen before yet hated him so much, had somehow ended up with his blood in his veins.  Khan had a feeling the two mysteries were somehow tied together.  He intended to find out.  He had always enjoyed a good mystery.    
  
"Tell me about yourself, Mr. Kirk," Khan requested, though his easy, near-conversational tone did not seem to ease the younger man at all.  Kirk's jaw clenched and he didn't respond for several moments.  
  
"What do you want to know?"  Answering a question with a question, not a bad strategy to stall for time.    
  
"Tell me about your family."  The young man seemed visibly surprised by Khan's request, then even more suspicious, if that was possible.  
  
"I don't have one," Kirk answered.  
  
"You must have had one once," Khan countered.  Kirk remained silent again before speaking.    
  
"I was raised in Iowa.  My father died before I was born.  My mother was too busy with her work to spend much time raising me.  I spent most of my childhood on my uncle's farm.  My brother left as soon as he could, and so did I.  They're all gone now."  Kirk's explanation was short and to the point.  It was all completely true, and at the same time, told Khan almost nothing.    
  
"What did you do after you left Iowa?"  Khan asked.  Kirk frowned.  
  
"Why do you want to know?"    
  
"Because a man without a past is highly suspicious, Mr. Kirk.  If your intention is to allay suspicion, rest assured, you are failing," Khan pointed out.  Kirk's scowl intensified, but the young man quickly schooled his features again.    
  
"I lived in San Francisco for a few years.  Then...Europe: London, Berlin.  After that, I didn't really keep track."  As Kirk spoke Khan kept his expression carefully neutral, but he could tell that the younger man's words were only partially true.  Kirk was thinking far too hard about answers that were far too vague.    
  
"What was the purpose of your travels?"  Khan asked, and though he hid it well, he could tell that Kirk was growing increasingly nervous about this line of questioning.    
  
"Just...traveling.  Exploring.  I wanted to see the world," Kirk finally answered with a small shrug.    
  
"Quite the adventurer then, given the state of affairs in Europe these last several years.  And especially since travel between those countries has long since been banned by the regents in power," Khan observed.  Kirk gave no response, looking as tense as an animal caught in a car's headlights, paralyzed with fear, unsure which way to run but still ready to bolt at a moment's notice.    
  
Khan continued to stare at Kirk intently for several long moments before he sat back and folded his hands into his lap.    
  
"Do you read, Mr. Kirk?" he asked and the young human blinked several times in surprise before collecting himself.  
  
"Yes..." he answered cautiously.  Khan nodded.  
  
"I shall have several books brought to your room later then.  History perhaps.  I think you will find them...enlightening."  While Khan's voice was casual, his words were laden with meaning. Meaning, he was certain a man as intelligent as Kirk, despite his obvious ignorance, would pick up.  Kirk wisely remained silent.  "Until then, I am sure you are tired from your travels today.  Kabir will show you to your room."  
  
At that, the door to the library opened and the young officer stepped inside.  If Kirk was surprised by the obvious sign of surveillance he did not show it.  Khan gave a nod to Kirk and the young man took the hint and stood, though it was clearly painful to do so.  The young human was barely recovered from his wounds, both the ones he'd received from the guards who'd shot him, and the rebels who'd tortured him.  Another injection of his blood would certainly help hasten Kirk's recovery, though for the time being, perhaps it was better to keep the young man weakened in order to discourage another escape attempt so soon.    
  
"Kirk."  The young man paused in his movement towards the door.  "I would not recommend testing the security measures within my palace.  I can assure you my personnel are well trained to handle any threats, from outside or within.  Should you be so gravely wounded again... My generosity has its limits."  
  
Kirk gave a small nod of understanding, and Khan gestured to Kabir to take the young human away.  He remained sitting for a long time, replaying the conversation with Kirk in his mind, theories of where this strange young human could have actually come from, and pondering how he could convince, or force, Kirk to reveal his secrets, occupying his thoughts.  Then, of course, there was the question of how Kirk was marked with his blood.  The fact that Kirk had survived his most recent infusion only further proved they had some kind of connection.  If the tests had been wrong somehow, if Kirk had been claimed by another augment, then the young man would have died when the doctors gave him Khan's blood.  Yet Kirk had survived.  It was imperative that he discovered how that had come to pass.  Despite how suspicious the young man was, Khan still did not think that Kirk was an agent of the rebels, or any of his enemies. But they still might be using him... An experiment perhaps?  Though that did not explain the young man's intense hatred towards him.    
  
He hoped his instincts about the young man proved true.  It would be a shame to have to kill the intriguing young man.  
  



	7. Chapter 7

Jim's mind was reeling. He walked behind Kabir, his 'escorts' on either side of him, in almost a daze. A part of him still hoped to wake up from this nightmare. Khan's words reverberated in his skull over and over like a death knell.

He was going to die here. It certainly hadn't been the first time the thought had flitted through Jim's mind; it had been a near constant fear in the back of his mind while he was being tortured. The feeling had dogged every stumbling step he'd taken out in that deserted wasteland before he'd been found. But it had never been such a certainty until now.

Of course, despite Khan's 'reassurances,' he didn't believe for one second that the augment was going to let him go if Jim could only somehow prove he wasn't a threat. Especially considering Jim had pretty much already proven he was with his failed escape attempt. Khan's 'warning' of not to try it again just added insult to injury.

_'My generosity has its limits.'_

Jim could only assume what that meant. He wasn't sure he wanted to know. It probably had to do with the fact that right now Jim was still alive when he really should be dead. He had a sick feeling in his stomach as to why that was. How long was Khan's 'generosity' going to last? How much longer did Khan intend to keep him alive?

Despite Khan's warning, Jim knew he had to find a way to get out of here before Khan's 'generosity' wore out. But until then if he wanted to survive he was going to have to find a way to stay on the augment's good side. Jim shuddered to think what that might mean, but he was nothing if not adaptable. He would do whatever he had to in order to make it back home. He just needed to live long enough to figure out what that was.

Before long they stopped in front of a door, and Jim frowned in confusion. He hadn't been paying much attention to where they were going; probably not a smart move on his part, but it certainly didn't look like they were in the dungeon...or wherever Khan kept his prisoners. His suspicions were confirmed when Kabir opened the door to quite a lavish looking room.

"These will be your quarters while you remain here," Kabir stated.

"What?" Jim couldn't help but ask, dumbfounded.

"Are they not to your liking?" The question was so unexpected Jim could only gape like a fish at the young man for a few moments before he recovered.

"No. I mean, they're fine. I just thought..." Jim decided not to finish his thought because he certainly didn't want to make them change their minds about taking him to the dungeon. Kabir seemed to read his thoughts nonetheless.

"You have not been charged or convicted with any crime." The 'yet' was more than implied in the young officer's tone. "The emperor wanted you to be comfortable during your stay. The room is of course under surveillance. The door and windows have alarms should they be opened without authorization. There will also be two guards posted outside at all times."

Jim had a feeling there were probably even more security measures in place that Kabir was not mentioning. It would just be foolish to tell Jim everything just to have him try to find a way around them. The young officer was most likely telling him this to discourage him from attempting another escape. Well, he didn't know Jim too well.

Still, Jim nodded meekly -the appearance of submission would hopefully throw off his captors- and walked into the room. As far as prisons went, it was definitely a step up from Jim's previous accommodations with the rebels.

"A doctor will be by soon to examine your wounds and change your bandages. If you will excuse me, I have other matters to attend to." While Kabir was polite, it certainly didn't sound like the young man wanted to be. Despite Kabir's words, obviously the young officer thought that Jim belonged in a cell...or worse. Which meant that this was Khan's doing? Why? Why the hell would Khan care whether or not Jim was 'comfortable' as Kabir put it?

The door to his new room shut as Kabir left and Jim heard the sound of a lock being engaged. He sighed heavily and looked around his room. It was at least three times the size of his captain's quarters on the _Enterprise_ , and that was just this one room. It looked like some kind of sitting room: there were several low couches, a bar area much like the one in Khan's study, and a table by the windows that was probably for dining. The windows were covered with a lattice with the shutters open to allow light and the slight breeze to enter the space.

Jim made his way to the open doorway and peered through to find a very richly decorated bedroom with a huge bed that looked very inviting to his weary body. As nice as a few hours napping sounded, Jim decided to finish exploring first. The last doorway opened to what he expected, a large bathroom containing an enormous bathtub, almost as inviting as the bed had been. But Kabir's 'warning' regarding the surveillance in his room made him less eager to take a bath; no need to give whoever was watching him, maybe even Khan himself, a show so soon.

Jim turned to one of the large mirrors in the room and curiosity got the better of him. He pulled off his shirt and then began unwinding the bandages around his chest. His suspicions were confirmed when the last bandage fell away to reveal the wounds... Or more accurately the lack of them on his chest. The four holes in his chest which should have killed him, instead was covered in fresh pink scar tissue. They were red around the edges and painful to the touch, but still far more healed than they should have been under normal circumstances.

_'My generosity has its limits'._

As though he hadn't been _tainted_ enough already. The human rebels had thought he was an augment, or an augment sympathizer, because of it. He'd been _tortured_ because they thought he was in league with Khan. Kabir had called him _marked_. Like he was _owned_ by Khan or something. Owned like a pet in a gilded cage. Now he had that bastard's blood inside of him again, doing god knows what inside of him...

His stomach turned and Jim barely made it to the toilet before he vomited.

* * *

Kabir entered the war room and stood to the side, waiting for his emperor to finish his discussion with his military advisors. The emperor and his advisors were all clustered around the large electronic map in the center of the room which contained detailed information on current skirmishes and troop movements of both their army and that of the enemy.

"Another village was attacked this morning, here." Colonel Abhay pointed to a spot on the map. It was a small area on the edge of the wasteland, like the others that had been attacked beforehand. Despite the increased number of troops the emperor had ordered to patrol the area in an attempt to stop the attacks from happening, the number and frequency of enemy insurgencies only seemed to be increasing.

"Were there any survivors?" the emperor asked, his voice and expression grave.

"Unknown, sir. The list of identified casualties is still coming in. There are a number of corpses that have yet to be identified. But there seems to be a large number of people missing as well," Abhay continued.

The emperor's fist slammed down on the edge of the map in a rare display of anger, shocking many of those in attendance. Kabir could certainly sympathize with the emperor's frustration. The attacks seemed random, but there had been a patrol of troops in that area not two hours before the attack had taken place. It could not be a coincidence that nearly as soon as their forces had left the area that the village had been ambushed.

It was almost as though the enemy knew their troop movements... But only the emperor's closest confidants were aware of such information...

"Send more troops to the outlying villages. Pull forces from the reserves in the capital if need be," the emperor ordered, surprising Kabir. Apparently he was not the only one to be shocked by the decision.

"Sir, if we send anymore forces to the borders, it could leave the capital more vulnerable to attack..." one of the generals protested, but the emperor stalled any further protests with a raised hand.

"I will not allow these rebels to slaughter my people indiscriminately. We will send as many troops as necessary to ensure the safety of the outlying villages," the emperor stated decisively. "What progress has been made in locating the rebels' base of operations?"

"We are certain that the rebels are somewhere in the wastelands, but due to the size of the search area, progress has been slow, sir," Colonel Abhay reported. It was certainly not the answer the emperor wished to hear.

"I expect you will do better, and bring me more positive news by the end of the week, Colonel." The emperor's displeasure was evident in every line of his face. Abhay nodded quickly.

"Yes, sir."

"In the meantime, I will endeavor to provide you with new information that will aid in your search efforts," the emperor promised, finally glancing in Kabir's direction. The young man straightened, waiting for the emperor to address him, but the emperor remained silent. Instead, he continued his debriefing of his advisors and finally dismissed them to carry out their new orders. Only then did the emperor finally turn to him.

"I trust that our guest is comfortable?"

Kabir nodded.

"Yes, sir. The doctor has been in to see him and examine his wounds. He reports that Kirk is healing well. He is currently resting in his quarters." Kabir reported. The emperor nodded.

"I wish to dine with him tonight. Have it arranged."

Kabir blinked in surprise and his hesitation to answer did not go unnoticed by the emperor.

"You have an objection?" the emperor prompted with a raised eyebrow, and Kabir nodded.

"I have already objected to your decision to keep Kirk here in the palace. The man is dangerous. He would kill you if given the chance," Kabir stated.

"I am aware of that," the emperor replied, seemingly unconcerned.

"It is my duty to ensure your safety, sir."

"I am aware of that as well." The emperor gave him an almost amused smile which only increased Kabir's frustration. The emperor always encouraged his officers to speak their minds, as long as they remained respectful in doing so. Right now, however, that was proving quite difficult for Kabir.

"If you wish to continue disregarding my assessments, perhaps you would wish to appoint another as your chief intelligence officer."

Khan raised an eyebrow at him.

"Sir," Kabir added hastily, earning him a small chuckle from the emperor.

"I am not disregarding your assessments, Kabir. I have always valued your skills greatly; you are a fine officer, and I have no wish to replace you."

"Then why take such a risk? If you will allow me to..."

"No. As I've said, I value your insight, Kabir, but in this case I've decided other methods will be far more effective in dealing with Kirk. I have made my decision," the emperor stated firmly and Kabir nodded reluctantly.

"Yes, sir."

The emperor turned back to view the map in the center of the room, a clear dismissal. Kabir still gave the older man a small bow even though his back was now to him, and left the room. He did his best to force down the bitter feelings of resentment the meeting with the emperor had left him with.


	8. Chapter 8

 

 

The doctor had come and gone. He'd said that Jim was healing well, considering. His ribs were still on the mend; his ribcage had been practically shattered by the projectiles, which was most likely why Jim was still so sore. At least he was mostly healed on the outside. Apparently his lungs and heart were also still recovering, so the doctor had recommended that Jim avoid any strenuous activity for a while. Rest would be the best thing for him right now.

Jim missed Bones.

After the doctor had gone, Jim decided to take the man's advice. After all, he was going to need his strength in the coming days if he was going to get out of here. Jim was out like a light nearly the second his head touched the down-filled pillows of the massive bed that was just as comfortable as it looked. He slept several hours and would have slept more if not for the insistent knocking on his door.

Jim groaned and rubbed his eyes tiredly. It was approaching evening, the sun having slipped low towards the horizon, already turning the sky aflame in hues of orange and pink. The knocking came again, louder this time, and Jim groaned once more as he untangled himself from the covers.

"All right, all right, keep your pants on," Jim muttered to himself and opened the door. He wasn't surprised to see Kabir on the other side. He was surprised that the man had been courteous enough to knock rather than just coming in. "What?"

Kabir raised an eyebrow at his tone, but otherwise didn't react to his rudeness.

"The emperor requests that you dine with him tonight. I have brought appropriate attire for you to wear," the young officer announced, gesturing to the pile of folded clothing that had been left on one of the couches in the sitting room.

Jim blinked stupidly between the young man and the clothing for a moment before scowling.

"Why?" he demanded.

"It is not my place to question the emperor's wishes."

"Oh yeah? What is your place, exactly?"

Kabir frowned at him a moment before smoothing his expression back to polite indifference.

"I have many duties. Among them, I ensure that the highest level of security is maintained within these walls. I uncover, monitor and attend to any possible threats to the emperor's safety." The young officer spoke with no small amount of pride.

"And apparently act as his errand boy as well. Yeah, I can see he values your services. Or maybe he just keeps you around for your looks." The young officer visibly flushed at his insinuation, and then glared at him dangerously. Jim was well aware that goading Kabir was probably not his wisest move, but he was tired, in pain, and now apparently had had to have dinner with Khan. He had no idea he was going to be forced to see the augment again so soon, and Kabir was a convenient target for his anger right now.

Well, it wouldn't be the first time Jim's mouth had gotten him into trouble. The young officer gathered his composer quickly however.

"The emperor expects you within the hour. I suggest you ready yourself," Kabir informed him professionally before he turned and left the room. With a cry of frustration, Jim picked up an expensive-looking glass vase and hurled it against the wall where it shattered. Unfortunately it didn't make him feel any better.

* * *

After fuming for a good fifteen minutes after Kabir left, Jim decided to take a bath and 'ready himself,' as Kabir had put it. He certainly wasn't happy about it, but he reminded himself his situation could be a lot worse right now, and he didn't want to get on Khan's bad side so soon.

It took him a few minutes of fiddling with the knobs on the bathtub to figure out how it worked, but eventually Jim had it filled with steaming water that felt wonderful when he sank down into it. The soapy warmth went a long way to helping him relax some of his overly-stiff muscles and compose himself. He remained in the bath longer than he probably should have, and finally dragged himself out of the water with a resigned sigh. When he returned to the sitting room for his clothing the glass vase he'd broken had already been cleaned up.

Jim frowned a little at the intrusion, but he wasn't really surprised. The clothing that Kabir had left for him seemed very similar to that which he'd seen Khan wearing earlier. Only this garment was a dark, almost navy blue, with gold thread accenting it. He made a face at the clothing, but put it on all the same. He had to admit, at least they were comfortable, even if they weren't really to his taste.

Once he was ready, he sat down on one of the couches in the sitting room to wait. He didn't wait long. A man who Jim didn't recognize came to fetch him; Jim guessed he must be a servant of some kind. A small immature voice inside of Jim wondered if he'd succeeded in getting under Kabir's skin, and that was why the young man hadn't come himself. Of course the guards outside of Jim's room followed them as the servant led Jim through the halls of the palace.

They finally arrived at a large dining area with a long low table and cushions on the floor rather than chairs for seating. Jim was beginning to wonder if any of the rooms in this place came in any other size but large. The table could probably have seated at least twenty people with room to spare, but currently there were only two places set. Khan was already seated at the head.

Jim tensed the second the augment's attention turned to him.

"Mr. Kirk. Thank you for joining me. Please sit." Khan was unnervingly polite, gesturing to the spot at his right that had been set for Jim. At least this time the guards didn't grab, drag, and force him to comply with the 'offer'. Though Jim had no doubt they would have done just with a simple gesture from Khan should Jim have refused.

He sank down onto the cushion, feeling more than a little uncomfortable for a variety of reasons, not least of all from Khan's appraising gaze as the augment's intense eyes trailed over his form. Jim glared in response, and Khan gave him an almost amused look in return.

"I trust that you are finding your accommodations suitable?" Khan asked.

"They're fine."

"The doctor ensures me you are recovering well from your injuries. And with no apparent side effects from being exposed to my blood. You are quite fortunate, Mr. Kirk."

"What do you want? Gratitude?" Jim snapped back.

"Most would feel some measure of gratitude towards the one who saved his life. But, no, that is not something I require," Khan returned calmly. "Rather, I find it fascinating. Under normal circumstances, the blood of an augment is quite toxic to an un-enhanced human, unless prepared very carefully. And that is a skill few possess, much less are capable of implementing. Even then, there can be...side effects. Those who are exposed and survive find that their DNA is forever altered. If they were to be exposed to the blood of any other augment, even properly prepared, the results would be fatal."

Khan smirked at him knowingly. "But of course, you already know this."

Jim's jaw clenched and he looked away from Khan's overly-intense scrutiny. Of course Jim hadn't known this, but apparently it was one of the many things that was common knowledge in this time. It would only serve to make Jim more suspicious, if he wasn't enough already. Thankfully, he was saved from responding to Khan's observation when several servants entered bearing plates of various fruit, breads, and cheeses.

"Please, eat. You must be famished. Such rapid healing can be difficult for a human body to endure; you will need the nourishment to keep up your strength."

Jim wanted to refuse, just on principle. Sharing a meal with Khan was definitely near the bottom of his list of things he wanted to do, but his stomach felt like it was gnawing on his backbone. And despite the feelings of nausea that Khan's words had evoked inside of him, he was starving. Jim picked up a piece of bread and began to eat it slowly, hoping it would both fill and settle his stomach a little.

They ate in silence for several minutes before Khan addressed him again.

"I would like to continue our discussion from earlier," Khan stated. Jim frowned in displeasure.

"Do I have a choice?" he asked more than a little bitterly. Khan gave him a cold smile.

"You always have a choice, Kirk. The question is, are you willing to accept the consequences of your choices?"

"Fine," Jim agreed reluctantly.

"Tell me more about yourself, Kirk."

At least Jim was expecting this line of questioning, and he'd had time to consider his answer. It wasn't ideal, and there was no guarantee Khan would believe him, but hopefully it would help explain away the large gaps in Jim's knowledge.

Jim gave a heavy sigh and looked down at his plate miserably. He let several moments pass in silence before he muttered, as though with great reluctance, "I can't."

Khan was silent for several long moments. Jim was pretty sure he hadn't been expecting that answer.

"You can't?" The augment finally repeated, his tone incredulous.

"No!" Jim snapped, glaring up at Khan. "When I woke up I had no idea where I was or how I got there! I barely knew my own name! There's so much I don't know, don't remember." Jim shook his head and ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. "This whole place is...alien...to me. My head feels like a giant black hole. I just want to go home."

That was certainly true enough, and Jim was sure that if nothing else, Khan would believe that. Again the silence stretched to almost uncomfortable lengths.

"If that is true, why lie?" Khan asked calmly. Jim glared at the augment.

"You said it yourself: a man without a past is suspicious. I told the people who first found me that I didn't know anything, and they nearly tortured me to death. Why should I expect any better from you?" Jim snapped.

Khan's eyes were practically piercing. Jim wasn't sure he'd ever felt quite so exposed under that assessing gaze, but all the same, he met Khan's stare without flinching. After a long moment, the other man gave a small nod.

"Tell me what you do know, then."

Jim resisted the urge to sigh.

"My name is Jim Kirk. I was born in Iowa. My father died before I was born. My mother and brother are dead now too. I lived in San Francisco for a time. After that it gets...blurry." Was Khan actually buying this? It couldn't possibly be this easy, could it?

"And how do you know me?" Khan asked him. He really should have been expecting that.

"What?"

"You know me. I saw it in your eyes the moment we met. Tell me why you feel such hatred towards me."

Jim swallowed. They were getting into dangerous territory, but he knew Khan wouldn't be satisfied if Jim said he hated the man based solely on his reputation. Khan would never believe that. So he had to tell the truth, or at least a version of it.

"You killed someone I cared about," Jim admitted. Khan raised an eyebrow but nodded for him to continue. "He was...a friend. A good man. You murdered him."

"How?"

Jim's hands clenched where they rested on the table. At the same time, his mind raced trying to come up with an explanation Khan would believe.

"Surely that is something you remember?"

Jim glared at the other man but he managed to somehow keep his voice calm when he answered, "He was shot. You opened fire in a room full of unarmed men and women.  You killed him in cold blood." Surely Khan must have done something similar before. The man had certainly seemed to show no hesitation or remorse for what he had done that day.

Again, for a long time Khan stared at him as though he were trying to pick Jim apart with his gaze alone before the augment finally nodded.

"In war there are few who are completely innocent. However, you have my condolences for your loss." Khan actually sounded...sincere. And that was somehow so much worse than if the man had simply mocked him. Jim's knuckles were beginning to turn white they were clenched so tightly and he found himself glancing towards a sharp knife nearby, its purpose most likely to slice the fruit they were eating. But if Jim could get his hands on it, maybe surprise Khan...

"Are you prepared to accept the consequences?" Khan asked, his tone deadly serious. Of course the man would notice.

The servants entered the dining room again, this time to remove the previously-laid dishes, including the knife, and set out their main course. Jim forced his hands to unclench, though he did little more than push his food around on his plate with his fork for the remainder of the meal.


	9. Chapter 9

Khan sipped leisurely at his drink. The dining room was empty now; Kirk had claimed exhaustion and pain from his wounds not long after the first course, and had asked to return to his room. While Khan knew that was probably true, he also knew the young man's true reason for leaving was to get away from him. Khan had allowed it, honestly surprised that the young man had lasted as long as he had.  
  
He continued his meal alone for a time until Kabir arrived. As always, the young human waited patiently for Khan to address him before approaching or speaking. Khan gestured towards the seat that Kirk had recently vacated. The remains of the meal the young man had hardly touched had of course already been cleared away. Kabir sat, but he stayed silent until Khan gave a slight nod.  
  
"Tell me what you are thinking," Khan said, and Kabir seemed to consider his words carefully before answering.  
  
"You do realize he is lying regarding the amnesia," he said, and Khan laughed.  
  
"Of course. Still, it is closer to the truth than we've yet had," Khan answered, and Kabir appeared relieved. Khan couldn't help feeling amused. Kabir always disliked having to openly disagree with him. The young man seemed to find it disrespectful, but that still did not stop him from speaking his mind when necessary. It was a trait that Khan admired, demanded even from his advisers. Of course, his word was law and final, but Khan's ego was not so fragile that he required mindless obedience or his own thoughts parroted back to him from everyone around him.  
  
Khan sipped from his drink again, and Kabir was silent for a time. He was honestly not surprised by Kabir's next question when the young man finally did speak.  
  
"What he said at the end? About the murder of his friend? Was it true?"  
  
"What do you think?" Khan asked, genuinely curious.  
  
"I...think it might have been the only completely true thing he has yet told us. But..."  
  
Khan smiled slightly.  
  
"You believe I am incapable of such actions?" Khan asked, and Kabir shook his head.  
  
"Of course you are capable of it, sir. I simply do not recall an instance of such events in your file," Kabir responded and Khan chuckled again. Of course. Kabir was certainly very good at his job; Khan would not have appointed him in his role otherwise. No one took a single step inside Khan's palace without Kabir knowing everything about him or her. Apparently that included Khan as well. No doubt the young man's explanation would entail that in order to guard Khan's safety, Kabir needed to know everything about any potential enemies he may have made along the way. Khan could only imagine what the young man might have uncovered about his past. Much of it was no doubt...disturbing.  
  
"You are right. On all accounts," Khan said. What Kirk had described, Khan would have certainly remembered. Was it a case of mistaken identity? Did Kirk blame him for the actions committed by another? Or was it something more? Another mystery to add to the many surrounding Kirk.  
  
Kabir was obviously not pleased by the growing number of questions that he was unable to answer about Kirk. "You still believe he was not sent here by your enemies?"  
  
Khan shook his head.  
  
"No. If Kirk wants me dead, it is for his own reasons, not that of another."  
  
"For your safety, perhaps it would be best to move Kirk to a more secure location, sir," Kabir suggested, not for the first time.  
  
"Have you ever heard the saying, keep your friends close, and your enemies closer, Kabir?" Khan asked, and the young man frowned.  
  
"Will you still be saying that, sir, when Kirk attempts to cut your throat during dinner?" Kabir countered, Khan laughed and took another drink.  
  
"If that day comes, Kabir, you are welcome to tell me I told you so."

* * *

  
  
It was dark. Though he could see nothing around him, he knew he was not alone. He could feel another's breath, warm and tickling against his ear. Heavy, almost panting. Jim leaned back against a strong chest, his head falling back against an equally strong shoulder. Warm lips ghosted along his neck, followed by sucking bites. Jim moaned at the pleasant feeling.  
  
Hot. He was so hot. Warm air surrounded him. The bare flesh he encountered when he reached back was warm and damp with sweat. Hot, strong hands moved along his hips, up his flanks and then over his stomach and chest, touching him everywhere. Something even hotter moved inside him. Thick and hard. He felt like he was burning from the inside out.  
  
Good. So good. He hadn't felt this good in so long. He was so hard he ached. So hot. He turned his head and his lips were captured in a fierce kiss, pouring even more molten heat into him. He was going to burn... He should be afraid...but he wasn't...  
  
He was so close...

* * *

  
  
Jim woke with a sharp gasp. His heart pounded a hard rhythm against his ribs, and his cock was harder than he could remember it being in a long time. He groaned loudly in frustration and cursed under his breath.  
  
Where the hell had that come from?  
  
He probably shouldn't be surprised. Even though he hadn't had a dream quite so vivid as that for a long time, he had been under a tremendous amount of stress lately with no real way to relieve it. He certainly wasn't going to jerk off now either, knowing he was being watched, probably this very moment. Jim had done some kinky stuff in the past, but he had his limits.  
  
What he was surprised about though was the...content of the dream. Jim was certainly no prude, but he hadn't slept with a man since his academy days. Even then, he'd never bottomed before, preferring to be the one in the driver's seat for the most part. He couldn't remember the last time he had fantasized about it, much less dreamed along those lines.  
  
Well, one thing was for certain, he had bigger things to worry about right now than the subject of his wet dreams. Jim rubbed his eyes tiredly, feeling like he hadn't slept a wink even though he'd gone to bed rather early the night before. Right after his dinner with Khan, actually.  
  
Dinner with Khan... That was definitely not something he had ever expected to happen, certainly not something he wanted to repeat. Unfortunately, the augment had implied that it would be a regular thing, as long as Jim was his 'guest'. Jim snorted softly. Guest, right... Well, Jim supposed he wouldn't actually be eating all that much for a while. Just being near Khan made him feel sick to his stomach. He felt queasy even now just thinking about it.  
  
Well, at least it was doing a fine job of helping diminish his 'little' problem below the waist. Unwanted erection? Just think of Khan. Jim snorted again. He really did have a sick sense of humor sometimes.  
  
With a sigh Jim pushed himself up carefully. His chest still ached terribly and that helped relieve his problem even more. It wasn't a perfect solution, but at least he could stand and make his way to the bathroom without completely humiliating himself.  
  
He urinated and then splashed cold water on his face from the sink. His skin still felt sticky with drying sweat, and he was contemplating taking a shower when he heard a knock on his bedroom door. Jim sighed heavily. He really wasn't surprised; he knew he was being watched, after all. That didn't make it any less annoying.  
  
Jim briefly considered not answering it, but if he didn't they might not even bother knocking before entering in the future. At least this way he had the illusion of privacy and choice. Sighing softly he grabbed a robe and pulled it on over his sleeping pants, then he opened the door. He was shocked to see Khan himself standing on the other side.  
  
Jim's heart began to speed up again, but this time it was for a much less pleasant reason.  
  
"What do you want?" he asked, trying to keep his tone even rather than snapping in anger, though by the look the augment cast him, Jim could tell he was less-than-successful. Khan gave him a long considering look before answering.  
  
"I will be engaged in other matters for most of the day, so I regret we cannot continue our discussion until later tonight. However I have brought you the books I mentioned. I think you will find their contents enlightening." Khan gestured behind him towards a table on which were stacked several large books.  
  
Jim gave the man a slight nod, certainly not wanting to thank the man, though he had a feeling Khan wasn't going to leave without some kind of acknowledgement. Khan continued to study him in a very intense manner, similar to how one might a particularly interesting insect. It made Jim's skin crawl. Finally Khan nodded in return, turned, and left.  
  
Jim gave a deep sigh of relief, though even without Khan's intense gaze leveled on him, Jim still felt uncomfortable. He felt almost as though...Khan had known. Unfortunately, Jim was still half-hard from his dream this morning, even though seeing the augment had made him feel like he'd been doused in ice water. But how could he possibly know? The robe Jim was wearing should have more than hidden... Unless Khan had been watching him on some kind of monitor while Jim had been asleep. The idea left Jim feeling dirty...  
  
Well, at least he wouldn't have to see the man again until later, if Khan were telling the truth. While Jim would have preferred to never see the man again , he knew he wouldn't be so lucky. Jim wearily sighed again, somehow feeling even more tired now than before, and decided to return to bed. The day had barely even begun and he was already wishing it was over.

* * *

  
  
Kabir waited for his emperor outside of Kirk's quarters wearing a puzzled frown. He had offered to deliver the books to Kirk, knowing that the emperor had a great many matters to see to today. The most pressing of those was meeting with the emissary of one of their allies to discuss the recent attacks being committed by the rebel humans. But the emperor had insisted on bringing the books himself and meeting with Kirk this morning.  
  
Now as the emperor exited the human's quarters, he wore a thoughtful frown.  
  
"Sir?" Kabir questioned as he fell into step beside his ruler.  
  
"It appears Kirk may be exhibiting side effects due to the infusions of my blood after all," Khan answered, and Kabir's eyes widened in shock. Humans exhibiting side-effects after being exposed to augmented blood was not unheard off, but from the tone of his ruler's voice...surely he did not mean...  
  
"Sir?" Kabir could only repeat in near-alarm. If Kirk were experiencing such side effects...  
  
"Have the doctor examine him again, and keep a close watch on him. Inform me if any symptoms manifest," Khan ordered, not appearing overly-concerned by the possibility. Perhaps his emperor was simply being cautious. Kabir nodded.  
  
"Yes, sir."


	10. Chapter 10

Carmilla awaited Khan in his private study. The young woman was impeccably dressed as always in a dark suit, her raven-colored hair bound in an intricate swirl of braids that contrasted sharply with her ivory-colored skin, though, as always, her eyes were the most striking of her features. Blazing bright green with vertical pupils, like those of a cat.  
  
Carmilla was an augment created in the Russian labs which specialized in combining human DNA with that of animals. The results were often unpredictable, and unfortunately, few subjects had managed to survive long into adulthood given unforeseen complications that dramatically shortened most of their lifespans. Carmilla was one of the exceptions. She had been a valuable asset during the revolution, her enhanced vision (even compared to that of an augment) and ability to see in near total darkness, had made her a remarkable assassin. Many of the former human leaders had fallen to her skills. Now she was the ambassador, and lover, of Khan's closest ally, Katerina, ruler of the former Soviet Union and surrounding territories.  
  
"Carmilla, forgive me for being late. You look well."  
  
Carmilla's cat-like eyes lit up when she saw him, and she rose gracefully from her chair. Her smile was warm as she held out her hand to him. He took it and brought it to his lips, brushing a gentle kiss along her knuckles.  
  
"Thank you. It has been too long, my friend. Katerina regrets that she could not make the journey to see you personally. Unfortunately, the skirmishes along our borders have kept her most busy, as I'm sure you can understand." Carmilla spoke gravely, and Khan nodded. Of course he could understand completely. That was, after all, why Carmilla was here in the first place.  
  
"Of course. Thank you for taking the time to come all this way on such short notice. I felt it necessary to discuss these matters in person, as I've become leery of our normal means of communication," Khan explained. Carmilla's eyes widened in surprise.  
  
"You think the situation is that dire?" she asked. Khan nodded and released her hand, gesturing for her to sit once more. After she did, he took the seat across from her.  
  
"These are not the normal attacks we have seen from the human resistance. The attacks are too well organized. Their knowledge of our troop movements is too precise. I am beginning to suspect we may have a traitor in our midst. At the very least, our communications are somehow being monitored. I do not yet know the reason for these attacks, but I suspect they are merely a prelude to something much larger," Khan explained, his expression hard. Carmilla's was just as grave.  
  
"You know I do not doubt your instincts, Khan. We would not have won the war without you. Though I must admit, I had hoped the years of conflict were behind us," Carmilla admitted. Khan could certainly understand her sentiments; the peace they had won when the augments had ripped power away from their corrupt creators had been bought at a bloody cost. No one wanted to see such bloodshed again caused by yet another war, yet they may not have a choice. "Tell me what you need, and I will see that it is done."

* * *

  
  
The doctor had been in to see Jim again around lunchtime. Jim had been surprised to be woken by the knock on his door. At first, Jim had been a bit worried, he hadn't meant to sleep for so long, but it had been over fourteen hours and he still felt like he could have slept longer if he hadn't been woken. That wasn't like him. But then again, he was still healing from some pretty serious injuries; even with Khan's blood to 'help him along,' he still had a long way to go before he was fully recovered.  
  
Jim also wondered at the possibility that the food he'd eaten last night might have been drugged. He certainly wouldn't put that past Khan. It could have been done either to loosen his tongue, or just to keep him docile and further discourage his attempts to escape. The idea pissed him off, and that, at least helped burn away some of the cobwebs that lingered in his head.  
  
The doctor, an elderly gentleman with graying hair by the name of Lee, was professional and careful as he examined Jim's healing wounds. He reiterated that Jim's internal wounds seemed to be healing well too, and that there were no signs of complications or infection. Though, the doctor was concerned by Jim's slightly elevated body temperature and heart rate.  
  
He asked if Jim's sleep had been disturbed or abnormal, and of course, Jim had lied. He certainly wasn't about to discuss the strange erotic dreams he'd been having. He also lied when the doctor asked him if he'd been eating well. If the doctor told this to Khan, the augment would know it was a lie, since Jim had hardly touched his food at dinner the night before. But Jim was sure his lack of appetite had had more to do with the company during dinner rather than any real sickness. Even though Jim still felt a bit queasy now, he would make sure to eat whenever his lunch was brought.  
  
After the doctor had left, with a promise to return soon with medication to help with the pain Jim was still experiencing, he sat down to examine the books that Khan had left for him this morning. It wasn't as though Jim had anything better to do.  
  
Despite from whom the books had come, Jim couldn't deny his interest in them. Real, antique books were rare in Jim's time; he'd only managed to handle and read a few in his lifetime. He owned one volume of twentieth century literature and it had cost him nearly two months' salary, but it had been worth it. At least Khan was right about one thing, Jim definitely found the books enlightening.  
  
They were all history books, as Khan had promised. Each one contained several decades' worth of knowledge of the late twentieth century. They were very detailed and ranged over several topics, many of which Jim would never have even considered, from 'pop culture' and entertainment, to geography, politics, and economy. Jim could have spent days, or even weeks, reading them all, but not knowing how much time he would have, he skipped to subjects he thought were probably the most pertinent to his situation.  
  
The Eugenics Wars and the aftermath. Jim regretted that he still hadn't been able to figure out exactly what year he had arrived in. He hadn't yet found a way to ask the question without sounding even more crazy or suspect than he already was. But at least the newspaper he had found before had given him an idea.  
  
The late twentieth century was certainly a dark time in human history. So many wars. The First World War, the Russian Civil War, the Second World War and Holocaust, the Spanish Civil War, the Cold War, the Chinese Civil War, the Korean War, the Vietnam War, the Iraq War, the Gulf War... Even without the augments, humans seemed intent on killing each other. And those had not the worst of it. There had been so much greed and corruption in nearly every major government all around the world. Wealth and power went hand in hand. The privileged gorged themselves while the poor starved in the streets. Humanity had been on the brink; if they didn't kill themselves off with weapons of mass destruction, the rising pollution levels threatened to make the very planet inhospitable to humanity in mere decades...  
  
Much of this Jim had already known. Reading it all again, he couldn't help but marvel how they'd managed to come so far mere centuries later. It was something of a miracle really.  
  
Unfortunately, despite all that humanity had endured, the worst was yet to come before it could get better. The Eugenics Wars... Of course they were not called that now, not in this time. The phrase would not be attached to the string of conflicts between augments and humans for - probably - several more years. It had all started in 1992 when the genetically engineered super humans simultaneously began to seize power in over forty nations, led of course by Khan Noonien Singh...  
  
Though as Jim read, he couldn't help but frown at the descriptions of the events. The book claimed that Khan, refusing to be merely another pawn in the endless conflicts waged by humanity over the centuries, had turned on his creators. It claimed that he'd freed his fellow augments from fates worse-than-death, going by the descriptions of the experiments forced on the enhanced humans by the scientists who'd created them. Khan had then led his fellow augments against the corrupt human governments in a quest to liberate all of humanity, and finally bring lasting peace to the world. It claimed that many humans had joined Khan's forces willingly in this endeavor. In retaliation, the human governments had turned their weapons of mass destruction against their own people. Millions had died as a result, but in the end, the augments and their allies had triumphed.  
  
It had to be lies; there was no other explanation. The Khan described in the pages of the book certainly was no saint. There was mention of how Khan had authorized the executions of many of the former government officials when he'd taken power, as well as enacting many new laws that severely limited the freedoms of those under his rule. Yet in contrast, it also described how much Khan had done to make his lands safe for everyone under his rule, humans and augments alike. There was praise for the effort that had been made to rebuild after the war, to ensure that everyone had access to food, water, shelter, and medical aid whenever and wherever it was needed. Nowhere in the pages were descriptions of the mass genocide of humans that Khan had allegedly committed. Words like 'liberator' and 'savior' were used to describe the man who had plunged the entire world into a bloody war and declared himself dictator over more than a quarter of the Earth's population.  
  
Why was Jim even surprised? Did he really expect Khan to give him something that would paint a true picture of events, something that would cast him, or the augments, in a negative light? Of course not. History was written by the victors, and obviously whomever had written these books were either augments, or their allies...  
  
But the augments had not held power forever. Humans had eventually risen up against them, overthrowing them from power. Most had been killed, and the few that had remained had fled into exile to deep space. Khan and his crew...were the last of the augments.  
  
History was written by the victors...who in the end had been human. An uncomfortable thought occurred to Jim, and he immediately slammed closed the book he'd been reading and pushed it away.


	11. Chapter 11

As the night before, a servant came to fetch Jim in the evening to bring him to Khan for dinner.  Despite his rumbling stomach, Jim found he still had little interest in eating.  While the medication that the doctor had brought him earlier had certainly helped relieve some of the pain in Jim's head and chest, it had also made him tired.  He had gone back to bed almost immediately after taking it, and still felt a little groggy as he dressed in the clothing that had been left for him.  If any lunch had been brought to his room earlier in the day, it had already been cleared away, untouched.  He should be starving at this point, and the fact that he wasn't should have alarmed him.  But in truth, Jim couldn't muster up much concern at the moment given his exhausted state.  
  
Jim was a bit surprised, however, when he entered the same dining room as last night to find that Khan was not alone.  A beautiful woman with dark hair, wearing a tasteful black evening dress, was sitting to Khan's right laughing at something they had been talking about.  They both turned to look at him as Jim entered the dining room, and he couldn't deny he was surprised at the looks he received.  Khan's expression... If it were anyone else, Jim would have said the man looked almost concerned as he studied him.  The woman looked more curious than anything else, but her eyes... She had to be an augment.  Jim had certainly never seen a human with eyes like that, and he knew that in this time, Earth had not yet had any contact with any alien species.    
  
"Thank you for joining us, Mr. Kirk.  Carmilla is one of my oldest acquaintances.  I expect you will be on your best behavior."  Khan addressed him, and there was a definite warning in Khan's expression and tone.  It made the tension Jim already felt in Khan's presence only worse, but he nodded in understanding.  Khan gestured to the seat to his left, and Jim obediently sat, knowing that the sooner he complied with whatever game the augment was playing tonight, the sooner he could leave again.  Carmilla looked between Khan and him with genuine interest, before turning to Khan with a knowing smile.  
  
"Khan, you did not tell me that you had taken a consort."  Unfortunately Jim had been drinking from his water glass at that exact moment, and ended up nearly choking on it.  Khan, however seemed unsurprised by the comment, and merely shook his head while Jim sputtered.    
   
"He is not my consort, Carmilla. The situation is rather...complicated," Khan stated calmly, mostly ignoring Jim's distress.  
  
"What do you mean, consort?" Jim finally managed to wheeze, his face burning hot with humiliation at the insinuation, and wishing that he could simply melt into the floor at that moment.  Especially with the rather wicked way that Carmilla smiled at him.  
  
"You mean he doesn't know?  Oh, that is simply adorable, Khan," the woman practically purred.  
  
"Carmilla..." Khan warned, but by that point, Jim was livid.  
  
"What the fuck does she mean?" Jim shouted, on his feet once more and his hands clenched at his sides in anger.  It was actually a miracle he hadn't already gone for Khan's throat with his bare hands, even though he knew he wouldn't get very far.  
  
Khan turned his pale hard-as-steel gaze  towards him and gave him a withering look.    
  
"Sit down and calm yourself, Kirk.  Now," the augment demanded, and the order only pushed Jim closer towards the edge he was already teetering on.  Some self-preservation instinct must have clicked in though, because he slowly resumed his seat, even though he was nearly shaking with barely-restrained rage.  Khan gave an almost weary sigh, and threw another displeased look at Carmilla before turning his attention back to Jim.  
  
"Carmilla has, among other enhancements, an exceptionally strong sense of smell.  You've recently had a rather large infusion of my blood and the lingering traces of it in your body is...noticeable to her.  Under normal circumstances, when an augment shares his blood with a human, it is considered...intimate.  Usually the pair has a strong bond of friendship, or even more, before the blood is given.  Rest assured, your virtue is safe, Kirk," Khan explained calmly.     
  
"Forgive me, Mr. Kirk.  I was merely poking fun.  I did not mean to distress you."  Carmilla's apology sounded sincere, but she seemed even more curious about him now than before.  She cast another questioning look to Khan which the augment ignored.  Jim was certain they would be talking about him later when he was no longer there.  He also wondered just who exactly she was to Khan.  The man had called her an 'acquaintance' and yet she teased him like one might a younger sibling.  Jim knew that dynamic well; his own older brother could be merciless sometimes.  Not to mention the fact that Khan actually allowed it.    
  
The first course was brought out by several servants, and even though it smelled amazing, Jim found he had little appetite.  Granted, he hadn't had much of one to begin with, but the insinuation that he and Khan were fucking had definitely killed it.    
  
"You need to eat."  Khan's voice was just as demanding as always, but the augment's expression held that same near-concern that it had when Khan had first looked at him with when Jim had entered the room.    
  
"I'm not hungry," Jim snapped back with a glare, knowing he sounded petulant, but not really caring.  He hadn't been feeling well before, and he had no mood to perform for the amusement of the two augments.  Khan's eyes narrowed slightly.  
  
"I told you earlier, the healing done by my blood is very taxing on a human body.  You need to nourish yourself, or you will become ill."  The augment's expression was serious, so Jim had little doubt what Khan was telling him was true.   But at the same time, he almost didn't care.  What did it really matter?  Why should Khan care if he became ill -or even died- because of it?  The augment was only going to kill him in the end anyway, once he'd gotten whatever Khan wanted from him.    
  
Khan only continued to stare at him, however, and finally Jim picked up his spoon with a sigh and began to slowly eat the soup in front of him.  Khan, apparently satisfied, turned his attention back to Carmilla and the two of them began conversing in a language that Jim did not understand.  Apparently he wasn't to be included in the conversation and Jim couldn't say he was all that disappointed.    
  
Jim only managed to finish about half of the soup before the servants returned to remove the used dishes and brought out the next course.  Jim wondered just how likely it would be that he would be allowed to leave early, like he had the night before.  Something told him he wouldn't be so lucky this time, especially when Khan kept occasionally looking at him, as though to ensure that Jim was in fact eating his meal.    
  
Jim was beginning to think that the two augments were simply going to ignore him for the rest of the meal, so he was a little surprised when Khan did address him again.  
  
"Did you enjoy the books I brought you this morning?"  he asked.  Of course he would know that Jim had spent some time reading them.  Probably had regular reports of everything Jim did in his room, so it would be foolish to even attempt to lie. Khan would know he'd looked at them and would most likely call him on it if he said otherwise.    
  
"They were...interesting.  Do you really think people will still believe those lies a hundred years from now?"  Jim taunted the man.  Khan raised an eyebrow at his words, and Jim dearly hoped he'd not said too much...    
  
"What lies are those, Mr. Kirk?"  It was Carmilla who asked, sounding genuinely intrigued by the conversation.  Khan appeared more amused than angry, and that only irritated Jim more.  
  
"That you are some kind of fucking savior!  Do you really think people will believe that?  You're nothing but a murderer and a tyrant!"  Jim snapped, and to his shock, Khan merely laughed at his words.    
  
"Yes, and of course you have never killed anyone before, Mr. Kirk," Khan replied calmly, and Jim felt himself flush at the augment's words.  Of course Jim had killed before... Very recently in fact...but that was different.  Jim had never killed innocents in cold blood; Jim only killed when he'd been forced to.  To survive.  But apparently Khan was not finished.  
  
"As for being a tyrant... I am sure there are many who would call me such.  Julius Cesar was considered a tyrant when he became emperor of Rome, and was even eventually killed by his closest advisers.  At the same time, he was so respected and honored for his achievements that he was ultimately deified and every emperor who followed him took his name.    
  
"Alexander the Great waged wars against the Persian empire that lasted for ten years and his empire stretched from the Adriatic sea to the Indus River.  Civil wars eventually tore his empire apart after his death, and yet, the spread of Greek culture as a result of his rule led to a new Hellenistic civilization. Military leaders still study his battle tactics to this day..."  
  
Jim was not quite sure what to say to this, and Khan smiled at his silence.  
  
"History often remembers us in ways we least expect, Kirk."  

* * *

  
  
"He is a strange one, Khan.  Wherever did you find him?"  Carmilla asked him after Kirk had eventually been escorted out of the dining room.  Khan was rather surprised she had reined in her curiosity for that long.  
  
"Wandering the wasteland practically dead.  He claims he had been captured and tortured by the rebel humans in that area.  I am convinced he has information that could prove useful in locating the rebels' stronghold, but I have not yet been able to extract much that is useful from him," he explained.    
  
"Really?  Who is he?"  
  
"I have no idea.  There is no record of him even existing.  Kabir has been most vexed by the situation," Khan said and Carmilla laughed in obvious delight.  
  
"I'll just bet he is," she replied, but her expression quickly changed from amused to serious.  
  
"Is that why you marked him?  To gain information from him?"  Her tone was disapproving, and Khan frowned.  
  
"Of course not.  Believe it or not, he had somehow already been exposed to my blood before I ever met him," Khan replied, and her eyes widened considerably at his words.  "He attempted to escape our custody recently, and was nearly killed.  I provided my blood to aid in his recovery.  It means nothing.  As you may have noticed, he has quite a bit of hatred towards me.  He claims it is because I am responsible for the death of his friend."      
  
Carmilla took in his words and was silent for a long time.  
  
"Do you intend to tell him?  He is already exhibiting signs..." she asked.  He remained silent, and she eventually sighed softly. "You are a cruel man, Khan."  
  
He did not deny this.  They both knew it was true.


	12. Chapter 12

It was the middle of the night.  He lay in bed, naked, the covers having been kicked to the ground in a vain attempt to stave off the feverish heat burning inside of him.  His skin was flushed and hot to the touch, dripping with sweat.  His hair was damp and stuck to his forehead.  The very air around him felt thick and oppressive with heat. Even though a near-constant breeze blew in from outside through the open window, it brought no relief.  He felt like he was burning.  His flesh felt over-sensitive to the point that the faintest touch was at best uncomfortable, at worst, agonizing.  
  
Jim groaned softly in discomfort, trying to keep as still as possible to lessen the discomfort, but even the movement caused by his rapid, almost panting, breaths hurt him.  As did the fine twitches and tremors that racked his body, making him appear as though he were having a seizure.  And if that weren't enough, somehow, despite the burning discomfort in his muscles and scalding heat raging through his body, somehow he was hard.  His cock was flushed red, leaking against his stomach, and hard enough to pound nails.  It was so uncomfortable, he'd given up on any shame he might have felt over being observed and tried to bring himself off, if only to lessen the discomfort.  But his own touch had hurt, he was so damned sensitive, and it brought him no relief.     
  
He'd never felt anything like this before.  What the hell was happening to him?  Whatever it was seemed to only grow worse every second, and yet, at the same time, he had no idea how long he had been like this.  It could have been minutes or hours.  He felt like he might go insane before it stopped... What if it didn't stop?  A desperate sob tore its way from Jim's throat.    
  
"Help me...please..." he whispered over and over, not even caring that he was begging.  He felt like he had no pride left.  No shame.  He just wanted the pain to stop.  Stop.  Stop...please...  
  
"Shhh... Easy now... It's all right," a soothing voice whispered, sounding both close and very far away at the same time.  The voice was followed by a touch, and Jim cried out softly expecting it to hurt like everything else had, but instead the hand felt like a cool balm as it brushed back his hair from his feverish forehead.  Jim whimpered and tried to open his eyes, but the hand moved to cover them instead.    
  
"Don't," the voice ordered almost tenderly, and for some reason Jim obeyed without question.  The fingers moved to caress his cheek next, and Jim turned into the touch with a sigh of relief, not caring how or why, so long as the hand continued to touch him.  Somehow taking away the pain.  
  
"That's it," the deep, soothing voice purred.  "Just relax."  
  
Jim had no choice but to obey.  
  
The hand continued to move over his face, almost tenderly mapping out every feature.  His nose, eyebrows, cheekbones, jaw were all gently explored.  When the fingers brushed softly over his lips, they parted with a soft gasp.  Jim's tongue slipped out to swipe across the pad of one of the fingers.  He heard a soft deep chuckle, and one of the fingers pushed into his mouth slowly.    
  
Jim closed his mouth around the finger and sucked softly.  It was only then that he realized that it was a man's hand touching him, the fingers long and strong and tasting faintly of salt from Jim's own sweat.  Jim moaned softly as he suckled on the digit, earning him an approving sound from the man lying next to him.  It was only then that Jim had noticed how close the other was, able to finally feel the other man's body heat when he hadn't before; the heat of his own feverish body had been so overwhelming.    
  
Eventually, the man pulled his hand free of Jim's mouth, and Jim whimpered softly.  The man immediately hushed him and trailed his damp fingers down the length of Jim's throat.  Jim arched his neck back with a soft groan.  A finger lingered and traced along his thundering pulse, and Jim's fingers clenched into the bedding beneath him.  
  
"Don't worry.  I'll take care of you," the rich velvety voice promised, and for some reason, Jim believed the man without question.  The touch continued lower, along Jim's collarbone and down the center of his chest.  A thumb circled around one of his nipples causing Jim to gasp sharply and arch beneath the touch, his entire body feeling like a tightly-strung bow ready to snap at any moment.  The thumb flicked back and forth over his sensitive flesh causing his nipples to harden and ache.  The fingers pinched the hardened nub and Jim groaned loudly as his cock throbbed in response.  
  
"Please..." he begged unashamedly.    
  
His pleas were answered, and the hand moved down his chest with a warm heavy caress to where Jim needed it most.  Jim couldn't silence the cry of utter relief that tore out from his throat when the fingers wrapped around his aching cock.   Unlike his own touch, the other man's didn't burn, didn't hurt, in fact, nothing had ever felt better in his life.    
  
The other did not tease him, perhaps knowing how much pain Jim was in.  The hand stroked him with a sure steady rhythm.  Jim's own precum provided plenty of lubrication to ease the way as the hand moved with confidence up and down the length of his cock.  Sometimes it slipped lower to cup and roll his balls in a warm palm before it returned to stroking his shaft.    
  
Moans of pleasure spilled nearly constantly from Jim's lips.  He was still shaking, though no longer in fever and pain.  His skin still felt hot, but now from passion.  As he got closer and closer to release, the hand stroking his flesh sped up to help him along. But Jim felt almost reluctant for it to end.    
  
"Don't hold back.  Let go," the man encouraged, as though he could read Jim's thoughts, and once again he found he could only obey the gentle command.  With a cry, Jim came, his hips bucking uncontrollably as thick hot ropes of cum spilled from his cock onto his heaving stomach and chest.  With his release, the burning inside of him seemed to drain away, as well as his strength.    
  
With every panting breath he took, exhaustion threatened to drag him under almost immediately.  The hand on his cock continued to gently caress him through the aftershocks of his orgasm until Jim was certain every drop of cum had been milked from him.  Afterwards, the hand trailed up along his stomach and chest, seemingly uncaring of the mess covering him, as it gently caressed the quivering muscles of his abdomen.    
  
"Rest now," the voice told him as the man practically pet him with soothing strokes along his stomach, down his thighs, and then up the length of his chest.  He touched him practically everywhere, almost possessively. But Jim didn't care.  He'd never felt more relaxed -or cherished- in his entire life.    
  
He eventually drifted to sleep with the other man's touch still lingering on his skin and his breath whispering gently into his ear.    


* * *

  
  
Jim woke and sat up sharply in his bed, his eyes wide with alarm.  He was panting and shaking as he looked down at himself, almost horrified at what he might find...but there was nothing out of the ordinary.  He was still dressed in the same light sleeping pants that he'd worn to bed.  The covers of the bed were a little twisted around him, so he'd probably tossed and turned in his sleep, but he was still mostly covered.  His skin felt a little flushed and damp with sweat, but nothing like he'd experienced...  
  
A dream.  It had to have been.  There was no other explanation.  But...  
  
It hadn't felt like a dream, it had felt real: the fire burning through his veins, the feeling of his skin burning, nearly melting off of his very bones, the arousal so strong he felt like he might go mad if he didn't receive some relief from it...  
  
And then the pleasure... Fuck, nothing had felt so real in his whole life...  
  
But it was only a dream.  He should feel relieved.  If it had been real, that meant that there was something seriously wrong with him.  He had no idea what could have caused his body to react in such a way, and he wasn't sure he wanted to know.  He certainly never wanted to experience something like it again.  If it had been real it also meant that someone...  
  
Jim was certainly no prude, but the idea of someone slipping into his room in the middle of the night to jerk him off was embarrassing and disturbing, even to him. Also the fact he had no idea who it had been... He should be really fucking relieved that it had been nothing more than a dream.  
  
Instead, to his shock, he found himself feeling almost...disappointed.    


* * *

  
  
Khan sat alone in a room filled with several monitors.  Each one held a different image from cameras which were placed throughout his palace.  This was his personal monitoring room.  There was another, larger room that was monitored at all times by several surveillance personnel.  However Khan could override certain security feeds, and activate or deactivate whichever cameras he wished from this room without raising alarm. All that was needed was prior notice given to the main surveillance room.  It was not a practice he indulged in often, however it did come in handy from time to time.    
  
Right now, Khan's attention was fixed upon the cameras within Kirk's room.  The young man had woken several minutes prior and was now indulging in a shower in the bathroom.  The walls and door of the shower were made of glass, and a good deal of steam had already built up inside the room, but Khan still had a very good view of the young man bathing within.    
  
Some might consider his voyeurism an undignified breach of privacy, certainly the young man on the cameras would not be pleased to know that Khan was observing him right now. But the opinions of others meant little to him.  It would be simply foolish to allow the young man confined within the room a place where he could remain unobserved, especially considering his resourcefulness.  He had already nearly escaped from them once.  Khan was not about to give him another opportunity in the name of 'decency'.    
  
The fact that the security measures in place also allowed him a splendid view of Kirk's well-toned unclothed body was merely a bonus.    
  
A slow smile formed on Khan's lips as he watched the warm water trail in rivulets down Kirk's form.  Kirk's head was tilted back beneath the spray of water.  His eyes fell closed and his lips parted almost in bliss.  Droplets of water glistened enticingly on his chest and stomach.  Khan's eyes followed the path of those droplets as gravity pulled them along a delicious path down Kirk's body.  The young man's cock was just as well-formed as the rest of him; even unaroused it was impressive.  As was the younger man's ass.  He really was a beautiful specimen.  Especially for a human.    
  
Khan felt a stirring in his own groin simply looking at him, and he sighed softly.  Carmilla was right.  Kirk was definitely showing signs, and Khan could not deny he was being affected by them as well.  He was soon going to have to decide what to do about it.  Especially given last night...  
  
Khan frowned to himself as he reached forward to turn off the monitors.  It was truly...unfortunate...that he and Kirk had met under these circumstances.  



	13. Chapter 13

He felt strange.  It was the first time in days that Jim could actually say that he felt...good.    
  
Though his chest still ached, the headache that had been plaguing him the entire day before had completely gone, and it was a relief. He no longer felt that bone-deep exhaustion that had clung to him no matter how much he'd slept.  His mind felt clear and alert.  His body felt full of untapped energy that nearly had him bouncing on the balls of his feet with the desire to release some of it.    
  
Despite the doctor's instructions to take it easy, Jim felt well enough to attempt some light exercise to help burn off some of that excess energy.  By the time he was done, his breakfast was being delivered by a servant, and Jim was grateful for it because he felt ravenous.  The meal on the tray was large, much larger than he'd normally eat in one sitting, but he finished it all; a big difference from only the night before where he'd had to practically force every bite that passed his lips.    
  
A part of him just wanted to be thankful that whatever had been wrong with him had seemed to run its course.  Another part of him couldn't help but wonder why he had been feeling so poorly to begin with...and what had made him feel well again so suddenly.  It didn't make any sense, and he couldn't stop wondering about it.  Maybe it was some kind of side effect from Khan's blood?  Jim sure as hell didn't remember feeling anything like this before when McCoy had used the augment's blood to essentially bring him back from the dead.  But then again, after he'd been dosed with the serum from the augmented blood, Jim had been in a coma for nearly two weeks.  Maybe he would have felt it before if he'd been awake and conscious.    
  
Then there was the question of the...dreams...  They were disturbing enough on their own, but the fact that he wasn't as disturbed as he probably should have been, disturbed him more.  They were so vivid.  Sometimes they almost seemed more real to him than when he was awake.  They were undeniably...erotic.  Jim wasn't sure he'd ever felt quite so aroused in his entire life.  Even just thinking about them now made heat rush south and his cock stir, and Jim had to quickly think about something else so he wouldn't embarrass himself.    
  
But the most disturbing part wasn't the fact that he was having very vivid, very naughty, dreams, but the fact that he was having them about another man.  A man who's face Jim had yet to see, though he was certain it was the same man in both dreams.  He had no idea who the man was, and yet, he somehow felt familiar.  It was only a dream, but telling himself that the man wasn't real... It made a despairing feeling well up inside of Jim.  Jim almost wanted him to be real...wanted the man to touch him, whisper to him, fuck him...  
  
That wasn't like Jim.  At all.  And the confusion he felt over his conflicting feelings made him uneasy despite the fact that he felt so much better physically.    
  
Again, Jim had to remind himself that he probably should not be wasting valuable time worrying about erotic dreams, no matter how strange they might be.  If he was feeling well again he should simply be grateful for it and use it to his advantage.  Like, finally finding a way to get out of here before Khan's 'generosity' wore out.    
  
So after the dishes for his breakfast were cleared away, Jim decided to explore his room more thoroughly to see if there was anything he could use, discover the extent of the security measures in place that Kabir had not already mentioned, and see if he could find a way around them.  The task was not exactly easy, especially when he couldn't be obvious about it with all the cameras inside the room.    
  
He'd already been able to find a few of the cameras, they had been pretty obvious.  The one in the bathroom he definitely hadn't been too happy to find, but since there was nothing he could do about it, he'd decided to just pretend it wasn't there.  Jim was far from ashamed of his body, he knew he looked good, damn it, and he wasn't going to give the pleasure of any perverted Peeping Toms the satisfaction of seeing him squirm about it.  It wasn't those cameras that Jim was really worried about.  It was the ones he was sure were hidden away that would cause him trouble.  The ones he could find he might be able to disable, like he had before.  The hidden ones would be trickier.  Especially if he wasn't able to find them all.  
  
So Jim spent the morning wandering around his quarters as discretely as possible, trying to give off the air that he was merely bored and trying to find something to do.  He spent awhile pretending to read in various places around the room to give him time to examine different sections.  In between locations, he would wander casually over to the window and look out as though he were simply enjoying the scenery and not trying to memorize the layout of the grounds and get an idea of the guard rotations.  Doing this also gave him time to examine the alarms that Kabir had mentioned, which Jim was certain he could deactivate with very little effort if he could just find a few things...  
  
A knock on his door around lunch time interrupted him, and Jim was certainly surprised by his visitor.    
  
"Good afternoon, Mr. Kirk."  Carmilla smiled at him warmly as she entered. Her dark dress was far more casual than the one she'd worn last night, but still tailored perfectly to cling to her shapely body.  Today her hair was worn loose and it fell in delicate waves down her back.  However, despite her casual body language and warm smile, Jim couldn't help feeling on-edge around her.  Not as much as when he was near Khan, but he was well aware the danger she posed to him, despite her outward friendliness.  Her strange eyes appeared to see too much and they held a wicked gleam, despite her smile.    
  
Since Jim wasn't sure how to address her, he remained silent, and she did not seem put off in the least.    
  
"I was wondering if you'd like to take a walk with me, Mr. Kirk.  The day is far too beautiful to be cooped up inside, wouldn't you say?"  Her offer seemed genuine, but Jim was still suspicious.  At his hesitation, she laughed and approached him, looping an arm through his before he could back away. "Oh my dear boy, no need to be so shy. I don't bite. Hard, anyway."    
  
She smiled at him again in a way that really didn't relax him, but she also didn't give him much of a choice as she started to lead him out of the room without letting go of his arm.  She was a lot stronger than she looked, and if he tried to resist he would only look ridiculous, so he went along.  Besides, having a chance to see more of the layout of Khan's palace could only aid in his attempt to escape later, right?    
  
Arm in arm, because Carmilla still refused to relinquish his, they made their way through several hallways and finally ended up in a vast garden.  It truly was beautiful: the assortment of flowers and trees lining the well groomed walkways were like nothing Jim had seen before.  It was almost difficult for him to believe he was actually on Earth, it looked so alien.  It was also peaceful, and Jim found himself relaxing in spite of his questionable company.  He definitely had been cooped up inside for too long.    
  
Carmilla was silent beside him, the sound of their footsteps on the path only broken by birdsong and the bubbling of the fountains they passed. Thus, he was actually shocked when he heard the unexpected sound of laughing children coming from somewhere ahead of them. Jim almost froze, but Carmilla urged him along silently with a knowing smile.  That should have been a hint, but somehow he was still surprised when they came to large open area of the garden.  There were about twenty children, aged perhaps between two and ten, playing next to a large fountain surrounded by flowers.  He saw several girls trying to capture butterflies, while a group of small boys played a game with a ball. Most of the children, however, were sitting in a circle around a very familiar figure.  
  
It was Khan, and apparently the man was in the middle of telling a story of some sort, judging by the looks of awe and gasps of delight that the children emitted together as if on cue. One of the children was actually sitting in the man's lap, and there was another, a girl, maybe about seven years old, standing behind Khan. It looked as though she was braiding the man's long hair. The scene in front of him was so...surreal...that at first Jim wasn't sure what to think. He knew his expression must have been completely dumbfounded, especially given the soft amused chuckle that Carmilla made beside him.    
  
"Not what you were expecting?" she gently teased him and Jim's attention snapped back to her with a frown.    
  
"Is this where you tell me he really is 'nice' once I get to know him, or something?" Jim asked sarcastically, and Carmilla laughed in delight, covering her mouth to avoid being overheard by either Khan or the playing children.    
  
"Oh my dear, we both know that isn't true.  He is the most unpleasant, rude, ignorant, and all-round obnoxious arsehole that anyone could possibly have the misfortune to meet."  Mirth danced in her bright green eyes as Jim stared at her in shock.  She smiled again and looked towards Khan.  "But, he does have his moments."  
  
The group of children around Khan erupted into peals of laughter once more and Jim couldn't help but stare at the man.  It was both shocking and fascinating to see Khan like this.  He had never seen the man appear so relaxed before.  It was really quite...  
  
Jim frowned again as a thought occurred to him.  
  
"Who are they?"  He of course meant the children.  At his question, some of the mirth faded from Carmilla's eyes and her expression turned solemn.    
  
"Orphans.  They were found hiding after the most recent attacks of the outlying villages.  They were the lucky ones.  Most of the villagers were either captured or killed," she explained sadly.  Jim looked towards the children again with a small frown.  
  
"They're augments?"  For some reason it was the only thing he could think to ask.  Carmilla frowned at him.  
  
"Do you really think that the human rebels only attack and kill augments?  You should know from experience that is not the case.  Most of these children, and their families, are human.  What percentage of the population do you think are augments, Mr. Kirk?" she asked him, and honestly, Jim had never really thought of it.  For some reason he'd simply assumed that the majority of the people Khan ruled would be other augments, even though the books he'd read stated that many humans had willingly fought alongside Khan... How could that be the case if Khan had supposedly committed the mass genocide of any group he considered to be inferior?  Why would any human willingly follow him if their fate was to be killed or enslaved by a tyrant?    
  
But Carmilla implied that the percentage of augments to humans was not as high as Jim originally thought... And as much as he wanted to deny that, it made sense.  After all, how many genetically-modified humans could have been created during the Eugenics Programs?  Enough to make an army perhaps, but not enough to fill a city.  Not in such a short time period.  Not the size of a city like he'd seen outside of his window, after all.    
  
"Why would the rebels attack and kill their own people?"  Jim asked anyway, still doubtful despite the logic of Carmilla's statements.  Carmilla sighed softly.  
  
"Why do humans ever need an excuse to kill each other, Mr. Kirk?"  She gave a small shake of her head, "We had hoped to finally put an end to such senseless bloodshed.  To end the pointless ongoing conflicts over land, resources, prejudice, or religion.  However, it seems some find the idea of peace far more threatening than war."    
  
Jim frowned at her words.  
  
"Millions died in that war!" he snapped, and he knew that millions more would probably die before Khan was finally overthrown.  "Do you really expect me to believe that peace was the goal?"    
  
"War is never won without bloodshed." Carmilla's voice had taken on a harder edge.  "Any revolution to bring about change has a cost.  You are from America, yes?"  
  
Jim hadn't expected the sudden topic shift and could only nod.  
  
"Your American War of Independence was one of the bloodiest in history.  The colonists of America fought for freedom against an oppressive ruler.  The British soldiers fought to subdue a dangerous rebellion against the established monarchy.  Which one of them was right, Mr. Kirk?  War is always a matter of perspective."    
  
Not knowing how to reply to that, Jim glanced back to where Khan and the children sat, only to find that the augment was now looking towards them.  His eyes met Khan's and Jim felt his heart seize in his chest.  He wondered if Khan had overheard what they'd been talking about, he knew that augments had enhanced senses... But the man didn't do or say anything to them.  Khan eventually turned  his attention back to the children and Jim felt like he could breathe again.  Carmilla looked at him with an expression that Jim couldn't define, but he was glad when the woman finally tugged on his arm to lead him away from the clearing.    
  
They did not speak the entire way back to Jim's room, but she had definitely given him a lot to think about.  She finally released him once he was back in his room, and turned to leave.  He almost thought she wasn't going to say anything, but she turned back when she reached the door. Once more, she was smiling in that apparent easy manner.    
  
"Much like your American War of Independence, Khan's people celebrate the day that the augments won their freedom from their former oppressors.  A few days from now, the celebration will be quite splendid.  I do hope you will join us," she said before slipping out of his room.    
  
For some reason her words filled Jim with a sense of foreboding.  
  



	14. Chapter 14

He was waiting for her when she returned to her room that night. Half-reclining in one of the chairs in her sitting room, his hair hung loose around his shoulders, and his shirt undone down the front giving her a magnificent view of his chest. She was not surprised. Nor was she surprised by the displeased expression on his handsome face. Many would have been intimidated by that. In truth, so was she. But she had known Khan for far too long to be genuinely afraid of him.

"Now, to what do I owe this pleasure?" Carmilla asked sweetly, even though her eyes danced with mischief as they raked greedily over his form. Khan's expression only hardened further, and when he rose from his chair, it was with the air of a predator on the hunt. In spite of herself, her heart rate quickened as he stalked towards her.

"You know I dislike it when you meddle in my affairs, Carmilla," Khan practically growled, and it sent delicious shivers through her body. It had been a long time since they'd lain together, not since the end of the war, when the passion between them had been more about relieving stress after a battle and reaffirming that they were still alive than any real affection between them. In fact, that was how she and Katerina had met. In Khan's bed. The man was always so passionate about everything, whether it be fighting or fucking, it didn't really matter. Sometimes it was hard to tell which was which with him. She had to admit, sometimes she missed it.

"Occasionally, you need a little meddling, love," she replied, trailing her fingers lightly up his exposed chest. The mirth did not fade from her eyes, even when he grabbed her wrist hard enough to bruise.

"Do not test me, woman. I am in no mood to play games," Khan growled again, twisting her wrist enough to make her wince a little in spite of herself. She responded by slapping him hard across the face. It wasn't hard enough to do any real damage, but her sharp nails left bloody scratches. His eyes flashed and that was the only warning she received before he shoved her against the wall hard enough to knock the breath out of her. A second later his lips were on hers in a fierce kiss, and a part of her very much wanted to take what was being offered. It would be good. Very good. It always was, and Katerina would not have minded. In fact, the only disappointment Katerina would feel was in not being there to enjoy the fun as well. It really had been too long...

But in the end, Carmilla knew it would only delay the inevitable. So, in near-uncharacteristic generosity, instead of giving into Khan's demanding advances, she bit his lip hard enough to draw blood. He reeled back with a sharp hiss, and the look of confusion on his face was utterly adorable. She smiled at him sweetly, and wiped away a drop of blood from his lips with a gentle touch.

"Oh, my dear. We both know I'm not the one you really want," she stated simply. He made a noise of frustration as he released her and turned away.

"Damnable woman. I told you..."

"I know," she replied, her voice sympathetic now. She moved closer and wrapped her arms around his middle, resting her head against his shoulder. She could feel the tension in his whole body. She knew this couldn't be easy. For either of them. "But you know this won't help."

Khan sighed heavily but didn't argue. They stayed that way for a long time, until finally he gently pulled out of her embrace and started towards the door without a word.

"What are you going to do?" she queried, unable to let him leave without asking that much. Khan froze with his hand on the door and shook his head slightly.

"I don't know."

Carmilla wasn't sure she'd ever heard that tone in his voice before. It was as close to defeat as she had ever perceived, and it worried her.

* * *

 

He hadn't seen Khan for days now. In fact, he hadn't seen much of anyone. There were only the servants who delivered Jim's meals to his room at the same time every day. Then there was the doctor who came by every so often to make sure that Jim's wounds were still healing well. There had been no more uncomfortable requests for Jim to join Khan for dinner. Kabir didn't come to harass him with questions or demands. Not even Carmilla had shown up to ask him out on another stroll after that one time. Sometimes new books would appear in the morning for him, but other than that, he was left alone. A part of Jim was grateful for that. He sure as hell didn't want to spend any more time in Khan's presence than he had to. But another part of Jim was very worried what this isolation might mean.

Was the interrogation, or whatever this had been, over? Was Khan deciding what to do with him now, since obviously Jim was of no use to him? Did it have something to do with what Jim had seen in the garden that day? Khan playing with children... Jim was still having trouble reconciling what he'd seen that day with what he knew about Khan. It didn't seem possible that a man...well, like Khan...could also be so caring and gentle with children. Or gentle with anyone, for that matter. If he hadn't seen it with his own eyes Jim never would have believed it.

Was the man angry or embarrassed that Jim had seen him like that? Is that why Khan hadn't forced Jim into more of those uncomfortable dinners he'd been so insistent on having? It just figured that the man wouldn't care about Jim witnessing how ruthless and uncaring he could be, but god forbid Jim see him allowing a little girl to play with his hair. Jim would have laughed if he wasn't so worried about what it might mean for him. He had never felt more like a prisoner in this place than he did now.

Adding to his confusion was of course the dreams. He'd had them every night, and while they weren't exactly disturbing -they were actually damned enjoyable- waking up to raging erections every morning that he had no real way of relieving, didn't help matters at all. It was also strange that although the dreams seemed to become even more vivid every night, he still had yet to see the face of the man who made love to him. It was always the same man; Jim was sure of it, but he could never see him. Even when Jim tried to see, the dream would end, right then and there, and that was even worse...

It was all so confusing, but definitely not something he should be wasting his time and energy thinking about. He needed to get out of here, especially if Khan had really lost interest in him, before the man decided to have him thrown in the dungeons or killed. He was probably healed enough from his wound at this point that he could try to make an escape attempt. But unfortunately, Jim had made little progress trying to find a way around all the security measures that Khan had in place. The man hadn't been kidding when he'd claimed they were substantial, and Jim knew he was only going to get one shot at this. If he tried to escape and failed again, a few bullets to his chest would probably be the least of his worries.

Jim was in the middle of discretely examining the alarm on his window again when he saw the first...explosion...outside. It lit up the evening sky in a shower of light, and the noise made him nearly jump out of his skin. There was another explosion, and another, in green, yellow, and red, and that was when Jim realized they were not explosions but fireworks.

He relaxed with a soft laugh. Ah yes, Carmilla had said something about a celebration. It was the local people celebrating Khan's winning the war, of all things. Jim almost couldn't believe it, but now that he was listening for it, he could hear distant cheers and the sound of music. His stomach rumbling also made him aware of how late in the evening it was and that the servants had been slow in bringing him his dinner tonight.

As though on cue, the door to his room opened and he wasn't surprised to see Carmilla waltz in. She looked beautiful, wearing a silver evening dress cut low in the front, and even lower in the back. Her hair was pulled up in an intricate style, decorated with what looked like diamonds. Her painted red lips smiled warmly at him and her bright green eyes twinkled with mirth.

It immediately made him nervous.

"Good evening, Mr. Kirk," she said, giving him a look up and down and then tutting in disappointment. "Now, that will not do at all." She motioned behind her and immediately several servants entered with arms full of clothing. He had a feeling he knew where this was going and also knew he wouldn't like it.

"You can't go anywhere dressed like that. Come now, quick. They will help you get ready." She indeed confirmed his fears and he immediately began shaking his head, even though he had a feeling his protests would be in vain.

"I'd rather not..."

"Nonsense." She waved away his objections without missing a beat. "You are to be my escort this evening, after all. Now, go and ready yourself." While her words were playful, teasing even, her eyes were not. She was not going to take no for an answer.

With a resigned sigh, Jim turned and went into his bedroom.

* * *

 

It wasn't the first formal gala that Jim had ever attended. In fact, Starfleet had a habit of throwing these kinds of parties whenever an important ambassador from another planet came to Earth, for whatever reason, in order to show their hospitality. Usually whichever starship captains were on Earth at the time were expected to attend, so in fact, Jim had been to quite a few. It was never something he particularly enjoyed. Even so, he'd never felt nearly as uncomfortable at those functions as he did now.

Part of it was the clothes he was forced to wear. The undershirt was white with a high collar embroidered with gold. Over it was a longer tunic, the color not so different from his captain's uniform, made from a gold shimmery material that was belted by a sash at the waist. His loose leggings were also white, as were the shoes he wore. Carmilla had assured him he looked stunning, which didn't make him feel much better.

"Is it a habit to invite prisoners to these kinds of parties?" Jim asked sarcastically, earning him a tittering laugh from the woman hanging on to his arm, much as she had during their walk through the garden.

"Tonight, you are the emperor's guest, dear boy. And my escort. So, do try to at least pretend you are enjoying yourself," she told him as she led him around the huge ballroom full of people. He had no idea who any of them were, though he assumed they were important people in Khan's empire. Carmilla stopped to talk to many of them, each time in languages that Jim could not understand, which only made him feel even more awkward. Though at the same time, he was almost glad for being ignored; he felt like a pampered pet being put on display.

An hour had nearly passed before Jim finally saw Khan. Trumpets blared, and suddenly everyone in the room turned to the large staircase at the front. Applause, followed by cheers erupted from everyone around him as Khan entered the room. The emperor was dressed all in white, and he looked... _Regal_   was the only way Jim could think of to describe the man. He stood tall, proud, and absolutely captivating in front of the crowd. When Khan raised his hand, the room immediately quieted, and Jim could only watch in fascination as Khan began to address them all with a strong confident voice that could be heard clearly through the whole room, even without the aid of amplification. As he listened, Jim finally began to understand why so many might have followed Khan so willingly. The man was a born leader...and his people loved him. Tyrant or not, everyone in this room loved Khan. Well, almost everyone.

When Khan had finished his speech, the crowd cheered again. Even though there were possibly hundreds of people in the room, the emperor's eyes seemed to fix directly on Jim's. Jim's heart seemed to skip a beat, and his breath froze until Khan's gaze finally slid away. What the hell...?

Jim could almost feel Carmilla's gaze on him, and he turned to find the woman smiling at him strangely. Before he could ask what was going on, she began to lead him through the crowd once more. He thought she intended to do more 'mingling,' but instead she seemed to be heading quite purposefully towards the front of the room. Her destination was confirmed when they finally reached the foot of the stairs, and that was when Jim started to resist, tugging his arm trying to loosen her hold on him, though it did little good in the end.

"I don't think this is a good idea..." Jim tried to protest. After all, Khan had been avoiding him for days. If the man hadn't wanted to see him alone, surely he didn't want to see him now. And the feeling was mutual.

"Nonsense," Carmilla replied. Since he didn't want everyone to see her dragging him around like a reluctant child, Jim forced himself to follow her up the stairs. With every step, he tried to brace himself a little more for this forced meeting.

Apparently, he was not the only one waiting for an 'audience' with the emperor; there was a line of people waiting where Khan stood. The emperor spent several moments speaking with each person, sometimes shaking the hands of the gentlemen or kissing a lady's hand when they greeted him. Khan's smile faded when he saw Jim, though he didn't look surprised, or even displeased, to see him.

"Mr. Kirk. Lady Carmilla." He greeted each of them with a small nod. Carmilla gave a slight curtsy to the emperor, and not wanting to anger the augment, Jim gave what would pass for a polite bow. Khan chuckled softly which made Jim frown. The man didn't seem to be mocking him, he merely seemed surprised.

"You may go now, Carmilla," Khan told the woman who smiled knowingly at both of them, and finally released Jim. Now instead of feeling relieved, Jim felt slightly abandoned as she walked away, leaving him with Khan.

"You look uncomfortable, Mr. Kirk," Khan remarked with no small amount of amusement. Jim scowled at him and clenched his fists at his side. It probably wouldn't be good if he punched the emperor in front of everyone, even if the man deserved it.

"Why am I here?" Jim demanded.

"Because it pleases me," Khan answered, and something in his tone made Jim flush in spite of himself. He glared at Khan, who of course remained completely unfazed. Jim remained silent, refusing to respond, and eventually Khan gave a small nod, as though to himself. "It is past time we spoke..."

But whatever it was that Khan had apparently decided to discuss with him, now, in all places, Jim would never know. He was distracted from what Khan was saying by the sudden appearance of a small glowing red dot that appeared on the augment's chest. At first Jim didn't know what it meant, but its placement, directly over the man's heart, quickly made its intention clear. Jim reacted without thinking, throwing himself at the man to push him out of the way at the exact moment a sound, not unlike one of the fireworks going off outside earlier, echoed through the ballroom.

Jim landed hard on top of Khan, even as the first screams of alarm rang out. He tried to push himself off the augment, but instead felt himself being dragged back by rough hands. A crowd quickly formed around Khan, who still lay on the ground, unmoving, obscured now from Jim's sight. But Jim had only to look down at his own clothing and see the bright red stain of blood on his tunic to know that Khan had been hit.


	15. Chapter 15

"Because it pleases me," Khan answered Kirk's question, partially because he knew his answer would irritate him. It was amusing to watch the passionate young man attempt to reign in his volatile emotions around him. Ever since they had first met, he had known that Kirk would gladly kill him if given the opportunity, and Khan had enjoyed pushing Kirk to the edge to see how far he would bend before he broke.

It was even more amusing that Khan's 'polite' company seemed to confuse and anger the young human, who seemed to always expect the very worst from him. That didn't particularly bother Khan; he had never deluded himself, as so many did, about the kind of man he was. It seemed as though Kirk knew him as well, against all rational explanations. It was just one of the many things that Khan found fascinating about the young human.

It was also the truth. Despite what Kirk might think his reasons were, it truly did please Khan to have the young man here, and that was the only reason why he was. Kabir had certainly protested against it. Quite vehemently, in fact. Kirk was a legitimate security risk, after all, and even Khan could not deny that. But Khan would have his way. He always did. But at least Kabir had been somewhat mollified when Khan had promised him that Carmilla would be personally keeping an eye on Kirk the entire time.

That was partially true. For there was one other reason why Khan had wanted Kirk close by at that time. He had been too busy with other matters these last several days to speak with the young man, though Kirk had been in the back of his mind almost constantly. Another unfortunate side effect. However, that was not the reason why Khan had requested Kirk's presence here tonight. Just as well, it was not the time or the place to discuss...that...

As Kirk glared at him, refusing to rise to his baiting words, Khan nodded slightly. "It is past time we spoke."

Where Kirk had come from, though an enticing mystery, was far less important to him than what Kirk knew. Specifically, what Kirk knew about the rebels who had taken him captive. Khan was sure they were members of, the same group of rebels which had been attacking his people these last several months. Carmilla had been able to extract valuable information from Kirk that day in the garden, though Khan had disliked her methods.

Apparently, for some reason, Kirk believed that the violence committed by the human rebels was only against augments. Khan was not certain why Kirk had such an apparent hate for augments. Perhaps it merely stemmed from the man's hatred towards him and his apparent crime against the young man. But perhaps now that Kirk knew that the attacks had harmed other humans, as well as augments, Khan might be able to persuade the young man to divulge whatever Kirk knew about the location of the rebels' base.

Kirk claimed that he did not know where it was, that he had been too injured, or delusional with sickness, to find his way back to the base even if he wanted to. Perhaps that was true, but there were...other methods Khan could employ to retrieve the information from Kirk's mind. If Kirk agreed to it.

Khan was certain he could manipulate the man's conscience to convince him to agree. This celebration was the perfect time to try: spirits were high and Kirk could see with his own eyes that Khan's people did not condemn his rule. In fact, they welcomed it. It was only a small percentage of humans who had not yet accepted...

The sudden shift of Kirk's expression was the only sign Khan received that something was wrong. He saw confusion in the younger man's eyes before everything seemed to go wrong at once. Kirk moved. Quickly. But not quickly enough. Kirk collided into him a split second before the bullet ripped through him. High caliber round; it would have done significant damage no matter where it hit him. It blew through the center of his chest, mere centimeters from his heart. If Kirk hadn't shoved him, it might have blown Khan's heart entirely apart.

It was a miracle that Kirk had not been hit as well. Had he been hit? Khan couldn't be sure. It was hard to think beyond anything but the incredible pain radiating through the very center of him. Everything else felt shockingly numb. He knew he was on the ground but he couldn't feel it beneath him. He could hear screams, but they echoed in his ears as if from very far away.

"Sir! Sir, open your eyes, please. Fetch a doctor! Now! Get him out of here!" Khan heard Kabir's voice, though he barely recognized it. Rarely did the young man ever openly display such emotion. Khan did open his eyes -he didn't even remember closing them- though it took tremendous effort. He managed to turn his head to where Kabir was looking, and saw Kirk being roughly dragged away by several of Khan's own security.

Khan opened his mouth and prepared to tell them to stop. Kirk had not been the one to injure him. In fact, Kirk might be the only reason why Khan was still alive. But instead of sound, only blood came out of his throat to spill grotesquely from his lips. He saw Kirk's face, the pale young man's eyes wide with shock and fear. It was the last thing Khan saw before he lost consciousness.

* * *

Khan's dungeon was exactly as Jim imagined it would be: dark, dank, cold cells, with thick brick walls and thick iron bars for doors. There was no window so there was no way for Jim to know how long he'd been here, no way to tell what time of day it was. The chains binding Jim's wrists and ankles were heavy and clanked ominously whenever he moved. It wasn't a pleasant sound. It reminded him too much of when he'd been first captured by the rebels and had been chained while they tortured him nearly to death. Jim couldn't help but wonder if the same fate awaited him now.

They thought he had tried to assassinate Khan. It was almost funny. He sure as hell wanted to kill Khan; he'd thought about it more than once while he'd been trapped here. He had been very tempted to actually stab the man at dinner one night. But it was the assassination attempt he was being blamed for, when there was no way he could have possibly shot Khan in that room. What would he have used? Where would he have gotten, or hidden, a weapon capable of blowing a hole the size of a man's hand through the augment's chest? Jim would have laughed at the scenarios his brain supplied for sequestering such a weapon if he weren't sure that they were going to kill him for it. Even if Khan was alive...

He had to be alive. The man had been alive the last time Jim had seen him. It had only been a glimpse through the crowd around the fallen man, but he was certain he'd seen Khan's eyes open and looking at him. He'd looked like he'd been trying to say something...right before a horrible amount of blood erupted from Khan's mouth and he'd begun to seize...

But even as horrific as the wound had looked, surely it wasn't critical for an augment? After all, Jim had seen Myrian take a bullet to the chest and it had begun to close again within minutes. Khan might be hurt, but surely he would live...right? Jim would tell them that he hadn't tried to kill him, and everything would be... Maybe not fine but surely at least they would let him out of the dungeon.

Khan couldn't be dead because he'd still been alive in Jim's time. The Eugenics Wars weren't over yet. Eventually Khan would be overthrown and he and his crew would escape in cryotubes on the sleeper ship. Jim's presence here surely couldn't have changed things that much... He hadn't even done anything!

The only problem was...Jim didn't know a lot about Khan's history; not much had been left by the twenty-third century. But he was pretty sure there wasn't any mention of assassination attempts on Khan. Surely something that big would have been put on file somewhere. Or maybe it was covered up? Maybe Khan wouldn't want anyone to know it had been so close? That would have been a serious blow to his people's morale. That had to be it.

But...that target had been directly over Khan's heart. If Jim hadn't been there, Khan surely would have been killed. Or...maybe if Jim hadn't been there, someone else would have. Someone who actually cared about Khan. Someone who might have simply taken the bullet meant for the emperor instead of trying to push him out of the way. Or maybe, if it had been an augment, they would have acted more quickly and stopped Khan from being injured altogether. Perhaps if Jim hadn't been there the assassin wouldn't have had such a clear shot at Khan in the first place.

A sick feeling began to fill him as he looked down at the blood still staining his clothes. Khan's blood. What if it was his fault? Maybe not directly, but...

Oh shit...

Jim remembered having foolish fantasies about killing Khan and changing the future, mostly when he'd been out of his mind in pain from the torture, but...now that it might have actually happened, all Jim felt was dread. There was no telling what might happen to the future should Khan die now, in this time. Jim's entire world, everything and everyone he had ever known, might no longer exist. Just as with the older Spock's timeline, Jim might no longer have a home to go back to.

* * *

He had fallen asleep. Jim wasn't even sure how that had happened, considering the panic he'd felt since he'd been locked down here, not knowing what was happening. It was hard to believe anyone could sleep after that. But maybe it was just the aftermath of shock and the earlier adrenaline rush. He still felt exhausted, but the tiredness faded quickly when he realized what had woken him. It was the approach of several booted feet echoing down the hall towards his cell.

Jim was upright immediately as the door to his cell swung open. He'd been expecting Kabir, but his eyes widened in surprise to see Colonel Abhay enter with two guards, both of which were armed and pointing their weapons at Jim.

That couldn't be good.

"What's going on? What happened to Kh - the emperor?" Jim sure as hell didn't want them to shoot him for something as trivial as disrespect. From the expressions on the guards' faces, it seemed like they were only waiting for an excuse to pull the triggers on their weapons.

Colonel Abhay's expression was a stone mask as he answered, "The Emperor is dead."

Jim felt as though the floor had suddenly dropped out from underneath him and he was plummeting down a cold dark hole. He'd had a similar feeling when he'd first realized that Admiral Pike was dead. The shock had been so severe, nothing had made sense. He felt off-balance, almost dizzy, and he actually had to sit down so he wouldn't fall down. Jim shook his head, unable to believe it.

"He can't be..." he heard himself whisper, the same thing that he'd repeated over and over in his mind as Pike lay with his eyes staring wide open, even as Jim desperately fumbled to feel for a pulse in the older man's neck. "He can't be..."  
Abhay's expression didn't change at all.

"I am afraid so," the older man said, gravely serious, not a hint of sympathy in his voice, "You are to be executed as an accomplice in the emperor's assassination. You will come with me now."

At those words, the two guards moved forward and took Jim by the arms, hauling him up. He was still too shocked to put up any resistance. But, if he was going to die, he should at least try to escape. Maybe he could get one of the weapons away from the guards if he took them by surprise. He could shoot them. Run. Try to find his way out of Khan's dungeon. Out of the palace. Keep running. He couldn't let them kill him...

But his mind was still stuck replaying Abhay's words to him.

The emperor is dead.

Khan was dead.

No, he couldn't be. He just couldn't. He...

Why did he care if Khan was alive or dead? Maybe the future wouldn't change at all if Khan died. Or maybe it would be a good thing; maybe all the people Khan had killed would be alive when Jim got back to the future. Maybe Pike would be alive. Jim should be glad that the bastard was dead! Khan was just going to kill him in the end anyway, wasn't he? So why was he...

...grieving?!


	16. Chapter 16

The pain was intense. About what he would have expected having a hole the size of fist blown through his chest. It certainly could have been much worse. Intense. But not unbearable. At least the pain was proof that he was still alive.

The same could not be said for the one who'd shot him once he'd been found.

Khan slowly opened his eyes.

He was not in his bedroom. He wasn't sure where he was, in fact, but that didn't really alarm Khan. Per his own instructions, in the event of an assassination atempt that significantly put his life in danger, he would be taken to a secure location that only a handful of his most trusted associates even knew about, and his true condition kept secret. It was a risk to be sure, but a necessary one. While the news of his death could severely damage his people's morale, and risk igniting unrest within his kingdom, if an enemy managed to get close enough to him to even attempt an assassination, they were formidable indeed and he would need any advantage he could get. If his enemy already thought he was dead, then they could not attempt another assassination, with perhaps more successful results, while he was vulnerable. It would give Khan time to recover, plan, and retaliate with a vengence.

It took him a moment before he noticed the medical monitoring equipment attached to him along with an oxygen mask. His thoughts were apparently moving slower than he was used to, probably from drugs, pain, blood loss, or all three. Khan lifted a hand sluggishly; it was surprisingly difficult to control his limbs, his intent to remove the oxygen mask. But a gentle hand stopped him.

"Oh no, you need that I'm afraid, love."

Khan turned his head slowly to look at Carmilla, who sat beside his bed. The woman was dressed pristinely as always, and she was smiling, as she nearly always was -a mask behind which she used to hide her true feelings. But her slightly red-rimmed eyes were enough to tell him that she had been crying at some point. Her next words confirmed the reason why.

"You gave us all a bad scare, Khan," she said, calm as ever, even as she twined her fingers tightly with his own. He squeezed her hand, and her expression wavered. For just an instant he thought she might begin crying again. It had been close. Very close. Her reactions alone told him that he was very lucky to be alive right now. But the moment was broken by the sound of his door opening.

"He is awake," Carmilla informed his visitor calmly.

Khan was able to lift his head just enough to see Kabir standing in his doorway, his eyes wide with shock and relief. But a moment later he composed himself, just as Carmilla had, bowing slightly before he entered Khan's quarters.

"It is good to see you are awake, sir," Kabir began, but Khan merely waved away the young man's concern. They had far more important matters to discuss than his health.

"The shooter?" Khan managed, and even he was shocked at how weak and wheezing his words sounded. Apparently so were his two visitors, but they again both quickly composed themselves. It was Carmilla who answered.

"Dead." It was obvious that she was not pleased with that answer, and neither was Khan. Oh, the shooter would have died eventually, screaming preferably, but not until he'd had a chance to answer Khan's questions. Khan frowned in displeasure.

"How?" he demanded.

"Suicide pill. Cyanide. He was dead by the time we found him, sir," Kabir responded, his expression of displeasure mirroring Khan's. Another time it might have amused him, but Khan found very little amusing about this situation.

"Who were they? How did they get into my palace?"

"We are still trying to determine that sir." Kabir shifted a little, but otherwise gave no outward indication of his nervousness. Still, it was enough to alert Khan that the young man was about to tell him something he definitely would not like. "Kirk has escaped custody, sir."

Khan's eyes widened.

"What?" It was to his credit that Kabir did not flinch at Khan's dangerous tone.

"Kirk has escaped custody. I am afraid that two men are dead, and one was injured during Kirk's escape, sir. Colonel Abhay is recovering from a head injury. The other two officers were fatally shot. We have evidence that Kirk might have helped orchestrate your assassination attempt, sir."

Khan could only stare at Kabir in silence. Carmilla was equally silent beside him, her expression grave, but otherwise unreadable.

"That is impossible," Khan finally said.

"Sir...you admitted yourself that Kirk wanted you dead, it is not inconceivable that..." Kabir began, clearly frustrated, as he had been with nearly every decision that Khan had previously made regarding Kirk. No doubt Kabir believed that Kirk had fooled him somehow and it was because Khan had not taken Kabir's warnings about the young man seriously that this had happened. Khan cut him off abruptly.

"Enough!" His voice was loud and decisive, and obviously too much for his still healing lungs. Khan immediately began to cough and he tasted blood in the back of his throat before he had finished. Kabir looked distressed and unsure what to do, Carmilla merely sat calmly beside him, squeezing his hand until the fit passed.

Khan was forced to take several slow breaths before he spoke again.

"Kirk attempted to push me out of the way of the assassin's shot. He is perhaps the only reason why I am alive now," Khan stated decisively, and though Kabir looked like he wanted to argue, Khan knew the young man would not dare. He could understand the younger man's doubt. Khan was surprised as any of them that Kirk had attempted to intervene and protect him, given Kirk's anger towards him. It would have been very easy for Kirk to do nothing and simply watch him die. Might have even been better for the young man if he had. Instead Kirk had tried to push him out of the way, nearly getting himself shot as well, trying to protect Khan. Was it merely the young man's considerable conscience that hadn't allowed him to simply stand back and watch his enemy die in front of him? Or was it more? Khan certainly had his own theories, but he would keep those to himself for now. Kabir's voice interrupted his thoughts.

"He has still escaped, sir. And killed two of your men to do it," Kabir reminded him. Khan frowned. No, he could not simply ignore that. But still...

"I want him found and brought to me. Alive." Khan stressed the last word and Kabir nodded in understanding. If Kirk was brought to him in any other condition, then he would hold Kabir personally responsible.

Kabir bowed and left his room, leaving Khan and Carmilla alone once more.

Khan turned his head towards her and he knew she was thinking the same thing he was. There was something more going on here than they knew.

"Find him."

It was obvious that she did not wish to leave him alone, that she believed he was still in danger, and in his weakened state, unable to protect himself. But she'd also know, better than anyone, what he was asking. So, she nodded and gracefully rose from her seat beside him. For a moment he did not release her hand.

"Carmilla..." he began but she leaned down and silenced him with a soft kiss.

"Have I ever let you down?" she asked. Even though he knew the question was rhetorical, he answered anyway.

"Never."

She smiled at him one last time and he let her go.

* * *

Jim groaned and blinked his eyes open slowly in the dim light. He was in a cell of some kind, that much was for certain. He was becoming uncomfortably familiar with being thrown into prisons lately. He shivered when he realized he was also naked. Though he was glad to be out of the bloody clothes he had been wearing, this definitely didn't bode well.

Jim pushed himself up slowly on shaky arms. His vision swam and his stomach churned dangerously. Maybe it was a good thing he hadn't had dinner... Or had he missed several meals by now? He had no idea. He had no idea how long he'd been locked in Khan's dungeon, and he had no idea how long he'd been here. Was he still in Khan's dungeon? He was still wearing the shackles he'd been wearing before, much to his dismay. Minus his clothes, things weren't all that different. Besides the pounding head and the nausea.

At least he was still alive... He seemed to remember someone telling him that they had planned to execute him as an accomplice to the would-be assassinator. Khan. Khan was dead...

Jim's stomach cramped painfully.

He still couldn't believe it. Jim had only briefly seen the emperor before he himself had been dragged away from the ballroom, and Khan certainly hadn't looked good. But Jim still couldn't believe that the man was dead. It just seemed...impossible.  
Why hadn't they killed him yet? Why would they keep him alive if they were convinced he'd had a hand in killing Khan? Maybe it had been some kind of trick? An interrogation technique? Had they been trying to shock him into telling the truth?

That didn't really explain why he was now naked, though. Jim shivered again in the cold air. He wondered if this might be another interrogation tactic, an attempt to make him as uncomfortable as possible. Jim had to admit, it was pretty effective. Was the next step torture?

Even as Jim thought it, he winced slightly when the door to his cell opened with a loud clang.

"Speak of the devil," Jim muttered under his breath, looking up at the man who entered. He was large, heavy set, but very muscular. His right eye seemed to be missing, replaced by a knot-work of scars. The man grinned at him and what teeth weren't blackened appeared to be missing. He was effectively intimidating.

Still, Jim slowly pushed himself up on trembling legs. His dizziness and nausea increased, as did the pounding in his head, but he remained standing. The obvious leer the man gave him as he looked him up and down didn't make Jim feel any better. Jim refused to squirm, however, as he addressed the large man.

"Where am I?" he asked. The scarred man didn't answer but another man pushed past him to stand before Jim. This one was much less intimidating, at least at first glance. He was short, with a thin angular pale face, and wavy brown hair. He wasn't unattractive but not someone Jim would take a second look at either. When his cold blue eyes met Jim's, he felt a chill run through him in spite of himself.

"Mr. Kirk. We meet at last," the man said in a high, slightly grating voice. It sounded and felt a little like nails on a chalkboard. Jim frowned at the man.

"Who are you?" he asked, valiantly keeping the trepidation he was feeling out of his voice.

"That's not really important," the man replied, "The important thing is I know who _you_ are. And I know _what_ you are."

Jim gave a disbelieving snort.

"I seriously doubt that."

The man smiled at Jim coldly.

"Are you not the emperor's consort?" he asked, and Jim felt the same anger flash through him as he had when Carmilla had suggested the same thing.

"I'm not his fucking consort," Jim snapped. Both men actually laughed.

"Interesting choice of words, Mr. Kirk. No, perhaps not...but that hardly matters. What matters is that you have something we need." The man spoke with confidence and before Jim could ask anything, the large man came forward to grab him. Jim tried to back away, but his own weakness and the chains severely limited his movement. He tried to twist out of the huge man's grip but his efforts were practically useless. His struggles earned him a backhand hard enough to make him taste blood.

"It would be better for you if you did not resist," the smaller man helpfully informed Jim as the larger man dragged Jim bodily out of the cell. "Not that it really matters in the end, I suppose."


	17. Chapter 17

_This was all eerily familiar_ , Jim couldn't help but think as he was dragged out of his small cell and into a larger room.  He could see a row of cells similar to the one Jim had been held in, and another area where prisoners were no doubt 'questioned'.  The rack with the chains made Jim shudder violently as he remembered the torture he'd experienced at the hands of the rebels when he'd first arrived.  Even with Khan's blood, his back still bore the scars.  He had become very...familiar...with some of the 'tools' left out in plain sight.  The barbed whip...the brand... His body ached with phantom pain just looking at them.    
  
The large man restraining him did not miss his reaction and chuckled darkly.    
  
"Maybe later," the man whispered into his ear, his foul breath making Jim gag. The threat certainly didn't make Jim feel any better, but he was still relieved that they did not stop there.    
  
They continued on through the dark twisting halls until finally they reached another room. It reminded Jim a great deal of the medical facilities he'd seen in this era so far.  However, seeing the sturdy restraints on the exam table in the center of the room made Jim's stomach clench with nervousness.  He had a bad feeling he knew what, or who, they was for.  
  
Jim's fears were realized when the shorter man with the wavy hair turned to the behemoth restraining him and ordered, "Strap him down."  
  
Again, Jim's struggles were useless and he was dragged unceremoniously over to the table, lifted, and then practically thrown onto it.  The large man held Jim down by his throat, practically choking him as he wrestled him into the restraints.  Once Jim was fully secured, he leered down at him and boldly groped him while the other man's back was turned.    
  
"I wonder if the emperor will like you so much after I've pounded your pretty ass raw," the large man whispered close to his ear while grabbing Jim's ass.  Jim couldn't move very much but he was still able to head-butt the man hard enough that he heard a crunch when his forehead connected with the other man's face.  To Jim's immense satisfaction, the disgusting man reeled back with a shout, cradling his now-bloodied nose.  Jim was pretty sure he'd broken it.  Unfortunately, the man quickly recovered, shooting Jim a glare through his watering eyes that promised death, before he punched Jim hard enough to make him see stars.    
  
"Enough!" the smaller man shouted, and to Jim's surprise the large man obeyed.  "Wait outside, Jacob.  I'll call you if I need you."    
  
The large man, Jacob, threw Jim one last look, which promised retribution for what Jim had done, before turning and stalking out.  Jim wanted to feel relieved, but as the other man approached him snapping on a pair of thin latex gloves, he had a feeling Jacob was the least of his worries.  Again, Jim tugged at the restraints holding him, and even though they didn't budge it was still better than simply lying there doing nothing.    
  
"Who the hell are you? What the fuck do you want with me?!" Jim growled, as the man began to touch him in various places.  He seemed most interested in the healing wounds on his chest.  They had scarred over, but were still quite tender as the man pressed down on them none-too-gently.  Jim clenched his jaw to keep from groaning in discomfort.    
  
"Remarkable," the man said, almost to himself. "These wounds should have killed you."  
  
He moved out of Jim's line of sight, but when he returned, he had a scalpel in his hand.  Jim felt his heart rate jump and his eyes went wide with alarm.  His struggles increased even though it did no good.    
  
"Now, now.  I'd rather not sedate you.  I just want to see what's going on inside there." The voice oozed with false reassurance as he brought the knife closer to Jim's chest.  "I'm not going to kill you.  Believe me, you're worth much more to us alive."  
  
"You're not one of Khan's people," Jim hissed with sudden realization when the scalpel bit into his flesh.  The man smiled in a way that brought Jim no comfort whatsoever.    
  
"No.  I'm not," he replied, pushing the blade in deeper, and Jim screamed.  


* * *

  
  
Jim was back in his cell.  He lay on his back on the floor, still nude, save for the thick bandages that had been wrapped around his chest after the...tests.  That was what the man...the doctor, or so he'd eventually referred to himself - no name - just the doctor...had called them.  Tests.  Just like Myrian had once called them, before she had helped him escape.    
  
The doctor hadn't kept him for very long, a couple of hours at most.  Enough to complete his 'tests,' then patch him up.  Though the man had also taken a large quantity of blood from him before he'd finally called Jacob to take Jim back to his cell.  Jacob had grinned at Jim in sadistic pleasure upon seeing his condition, and took great pleasure in feeling Jim up as he'd dragged Jim back to the cell.  Jim was much too weak now to put up any kind of resistance, and he'd been afraid the man was going to do...more...like he'd threatened earlier.  But instead, the man had simply left Jim there, gasping and shaking with pain on the floor with another sadistic leer, and a promise to have fun with him once the doctor no longer needed him.    
  
Maybe that meant Jim really was worth more to them alive than dead.  For now.  But how long would that last?  At least with Khan he'd been sure that the augment would simply kill him when he was done with him.  Not...rape him...before disposing of him.    
  
Who the hell were these men?  He didn't have any proof, but something told him they were some of the human rebels that Khan had been having trouble with.  Maybe they weren't the same group of men who'd originally captured and tortured him, but their methods were sure as hell familiar.  Jim just didn't understand what the hell they could want him for.    
  
Certainly not a bargaining chip. Even though they knew who he was, knew his name, even knew of his 'connection' to Khan, what did that really matter? Khan was dead.  Who else would they attempt to ransom him to? Even if they thought he was the emperor's 'consort' they weren't treating him like a hostage.  They were treating him like a...specimen.  Myrian had said that 'they' wanted to study him because there weren't many like him... He could only assume she must have meant because he'd been exposed to Khan's blood.      
  
Khan's blood had changed his DNA; even Khan himself had confirmed this.  But Jim still didn't understand why that was important to these men. It didn't have any of the enhanced properties that Khan's had.  He sure as hell wasn't healing as fast as he'd been when he was originally dosed with Khan's blood.  Except for the traces of Khan's DNA, 'marking him' as Kabir had once put it, there was nothing remarkable about Jim's blood.    
  
Though perhaps the bigger question was how the hell he had ended up here to begin with?  He had been in Khan's prison waiting to be executed for Khan's assassination.  Now he was here, being dissected and having his blood stolen by some kind of mad doctor.  He couldn't remember what had happened.  They'd come for him, Colonel Abhay and the two guards, and then...  
  
It didn't make any sense.  
  
Jim shivered violently on the cold floor.  He would have liked to curl up, at least attempt to conserve some body heat, but his chest hurt too damned much to attempt it.  His chest felt like it was on fire, but the rest of him felt like ice.  The cold from the stone floor beneath him felt like it seeped into his very bones.  The combination was not pleasant.    
  
He coughed wetly and groaned at the sharp pain in his lungs.    
  
Jim never thought he would miss his gilded cage in Khan's palace.  He might have been a prisoner, but at least he'd had a warm bed, clothes, and food.  His wounds had been tended with care and his needs more than met.  Having to deal with Khan hadn't exactly been pleasant considering their history, or at least Jim's history, but surprisingly the augment had been civil towards him most of the time.  Sometimes mocking, but not cruel, at least not physically.  Aside from being shot while attempting to escape, none of Khan's people had threatened him or harmed him.  He'd been treated remarkably...well...  
  
After everything that had happened, despite what Jim knew of Khan, he was having a difficult time feeling sympathetic for the human rebels fighting against the augments.  Khan might be a tyrant, and even the man himself had admitted that Marcus had tried to exploit his savagery, but so far the only savage treatment Jim had experienced had been at the hands of humans.  Not augments.  Not Khan...  
  
Jim almost had to laugh as a sudden image of Khan in the garden with the children sprang into his mind.  The man certainly hadn't seemed 'savage' at all telling stories to a group of orphans while a little girl braided his hair.  Jim's amusement quickly faded when he remembered the last look he'd seen on Khan's pale face: shocked and so full of pain, covered in his own blood... Dying...  
  
Jim still couldn't believe the man was dead... Khan had always seemed indestructible.  Surely nothing as simple as a mere bullet could take the man down...  
  
Jim closed his eyes as another violent shiver shook him.    
  
Khan...  


* * *

  
  
He was dreaming again.  He knew he was because it didn't hurt.  At least, it didn't hurt as much as he remembered.  He was warm.  Lying in a comfortable bed, expensive sheets rumpled beneath him.  A warm hand ghosted lightly over his hip and Jim sighed pleasantly, leaning back into the other man's body.  For once he didn't care that he was dreaming, or the strangeness of the dream.  He didn't even care about the possible identity of the man in his dreams.  He just wanted to feel good.    
  
A palm ran up the center of his chest and Jim arched into it and made an encouraging sound.  The fingers dancing along his chest paused ever so briefly but then resumed their exploration.  They found one of his nipples and began toying with it, pinching and tugging gently on the sensitive flesh.  Warm lips suckled at the side of his neck, making him shiver in a way that had nothing to do with cold.  
  
"Please..." Jim moaned softly, closing his eyes and tilting his head back, providing better access to his throat.  He could feel the other man's erection rubbing against his ass and Jim pushed his hips back, allowing the hard length to slip between his cheeks.  He was rewarded with a low rumbling groan from his lover and Jim reached back to grasp the man's hip, squeezing the hard muscle, trying to encourage the man to thrust against him.  He whispered again, "Please..."  
  
"Where are you?" he heard the man whisper in his ear, but at first he didn't answer.  The question seemed silly; after all, he was right here.  With him...  
  
The hand on his chest slid down, lower and lower, playing a little in the hair at the base of Jim's cock but not touching him where he wanted it most.  
  
"Where are you?" the voice repeated, more insistent now.  Jim groaned in frustration.    
  
"I don't know," he answered, thrusting back against the man's cock again.  Trying to entice the man to do something.  Fill him, touch him, anything.  Just...  
  
"Where are you?!" the man said again, his words now a demand, and Jim's eyes snapped open, forgetting himself.  He woke from the warm, sensual dream, but for the first time Jim caught a glimpse of the man in them.    
  
He'd seen intense blue-green eyes, very familiar, very unique, before he'd jerked awake with a startled and pained gasp.  


* * *

  
  
Khan's eyes snapped open and the augment cursed softly under his breath.    



	18. Chapter 18

Carmilla entered the plain hospital room carrying a small vase containing a pretty assortment of wildflowers. The middle-aged man in the room was deeply asleep. This time of night it wasn't unexpected. He was pale and had thick bandages wrapped around his head. The doctor had explained that he was lucky to be alive, the man's skull had been cracked and a half an inch in any other direction and he'd probably be dead, or a vegetable. Carmilla placed the vase of flowers softly down on the small table beside the bed.

Her keen eyes took in every detail of the sleeping man's features: the dark bruising on the side of his face, short dark salt-and-pepper hair, neatly trimmed mustache and beard. He had aged well despite the lines around his eyes and mouth betraying the stress of his position. But instead of merely making him seem old, it made the man look distinguished. Experienced. He had been a loyal officer in Khan's army for many years, since the early days of the rebellion. Not an augment, but he'd still risen quickly through the ranks earning the emperor's trust and praise through unwavering loyalty and obedience.

She turned away from the man towards the machines monitoring his vital signs. Everything seemed in working order. The colonel was in stable condition despite his injuries. There were several IV's set up providing nutrients, antibiotics, and of course pain medication. Carmilla closed off the IV providing the pain medication and then sat in the chair beside the colonel's hospital bed to wait patiently.

Within a half hour, the machines monitoring the sleeping man in the bed began to indicate a change in his heart rate and breathing patterns. After another fifteen minutes, a nurse came to investigate, but quickly hurried away again after only a look from the elegant woman sitting in the hospital room. Finally the injured man in the hospital bed began to groan in discomfort and show signs of waking. When his eyes finally slid open to gaze groggily around the room, Carmilla smiled.

"Good evening, Colonel Abhay. I would like to discuss the disappearance of Jim Kirk with you, if you don't mind," she stated, reaching over to take one of the man's hands in a gentle grip. The man looked at her with confusion. He seemed to be barely conscious and probably didn't even recognize who she was. Still smiling, she twisted one of the man's fingers sharply, dislocating it, and the man howled in pain. He was definitely awake now.

"You can start by telling me why you were there to begin with."

* * *

Jim gasped on the cold floor of his cell, the pain burning like fire through his chest unfortunately offering him no distraction from his racing thoughts. At this point, he wasn't sure which was worse.

Khan...

As much as Jim wanted to deny it, there was no mistaking what he had seen, even if it had only been a glimpse. He knew those eyes, and unfortunately they were very unique. Why the hell did the man have to have a rare mutation? Heterochromia iridis, Jim thought it was called. The irises of his eyes were half-blue and half-green. It could not have been anyone else... The question was why?

Had it always been him? Khan touching him...kissing him...fucking him... Why the hell would Jim ever dream of that! Dreaming of a man like that was out of character enough for Jim, but dreaming of Khan?! He would never... He wanted to kill the fucking bastard!

Then why had Jim tried to save him?

Jim groaned softly in discomfort and squeezed his eyes shut in a vain attempt to banish the confusing and conflicting feelings inside of him. Maybe he was over-thinking it anyway. They were just dreams. Odd dreams, but not necessarily bad dreams. Who the hell had much control over their subconscious while they were dreaming, anyway? It didn't mean anything... Besides, Khan was dead...wasn't he?

Again, that unmistakable pang of grief welled up inside of him when he thought of Khan's demise. With a shout, Jim struck the floor beside him hard with his fist in frustration and anger. He shouldn't even give a fuck that Khan was dead. He sure as hell had bigger things to worry about right now than stupid sex dreams involving a man he despised.

Where are you?

That's what Khan had asked him. In the dream. Fuck, he couldn't believe he hadn't recognized the man's voice until now. Maybe he'd simply been denying it to himself... But why would Khan ask him that? He'd sounded almost concerned. Searching for Jim...even though he'd been right there. As if his dreams were not strange enough.

They had never felt like mere dreams.

The first time, Jim remembered the pain he'd felt, like he was burning up from the inside out. It had hurt so much. The...need he'd felt was unlike anything he'd ever experienced before in his life. He'd felt like he was going insane with it. Would have given anything to make it stop. He'd begged for someone, anyone, to help him...

And he'd come. He'd made the pain go away. He made Jim feel things he'd never felt before. It had been so good, Jim felt something close to despair every time he awoke. Because it was only a dream...

Jim's eyes snapped open and he frowned into the darkness.

What if it wasn't just a dream?

What if Khan was alive?

* * *

The man in the bed moaned in agony as Carmilla gently wiped away some of the sweat from his face with a handkerchief. The look on her face was almost sympathetic.

"There now, that's better, isn't it? Are you ready to tell me the truth now?" she asked, now gently dabbing at a spot of blood.

"Told you...everything..."

Carmilla _tsked_ softly and squeezed the mangled hand in her own. The man moaned in agony and she felt the bones, or what was left of them, grind together in her grip. He would never use that hand again. If he lived.

"Now, Colonel. You expect me to believe that Jim Kirk was able to overpower, and kill two augments, in order to escape and you escaped with your life?" She shook her head and chuckled softly, her eyes losing any sign of sympathy as she squeezed tighter.

"He...had...help..." the colonel gasped.

"Hmm, I do think someone did. Though the question is, who? Kirk certainly could not have gotten out of the palace on his own. Yet with all the surveillance in the dungeons and throughout the palace grounds, not one camera was able to catch him leaving. I wonder how that could be?"

"Please..."

"And of course, there is that whole messy business of the rebels' impressive knowledge of our troop movements. That level of clearance couldn't be achieved by just anyone. Khan suspected there might be a traitor in our midst. I wonder what he will do if I told him I believe it is you?"

"The...emperor...is...dead..."

Carmilla's smile was nothing short of menacing.

"Is he?"

The man in the bed, already nearly as pale as the bedsheets he was laying on, went as white as a ghost.

"Tell me what I want to know, Abhay. I promise you, what I do to you will seem kind compared to Khan's wrath when he finds out you've betrayed him."

* * *

The door to the cell clanged open and Jim swore the sound vibrated through his very bones making his whole body ache. He wearily opened his eyes and winced at the bright light shining in through the doorway. Jacob stood there staring down at him with a crooked smile on his scarred face.

The man came into the cell and shut the door behind him with a bang.

"Ready for some fun?" the disgusting man asked as he began to palm himself through his trousers. Jim felt bile rise up in his throat, but he didn't move. The man's grin widened at Jim's passivity and he quickly approached him, his intent clear. Then in one quick movement, Jim lashed out and kicked the man in the knees as hard as he could.

Jacob went down with a howl of pain and Jim didn't hesitate. He knew he would only get one chance. He wrapped the chains binding his wrists around his would-be rapist's neck and pulled them as tight as he could. Of course the man fought. Practically a mountain of muscle slammed Jim back against the floor, trying to force Jim to loosen his hold on the chains, but despite the immense pain, and the feeling of blood that began to trail down his chest from his wounds, not to mention where the flailing man scratched at him, he held on. Jim pulled on the chains even tighter and twisted them...and finally heard and felt a satisfying crunch as Jacob's neck broke.

The now dead weight of the man pulled Jim back to the floor where Jim panted and shook from the exertion. But as exhausted as he was and as much pain as he was in, he did not allow himself to rest for long. He unwound the chains and pushed the heavy dead man off of him with a sound of disgust and stumbled to his feet. He went over to the door and to his relief, it opened.

Jim peered out the door. The room beyond seemed to be empty and he wasted no time slipping out of his cell. He wasn't going to wait around to see what else this 'doctor' had in store from him.

* * *

Carmilla left the hospital room, wiping her hands delicately with her handkerchief. A doctor and a few nurses were hovering outside in the hallway looking at her nervously. No doubt they'd overheard the screaming coming from inside, but none of them had dared enter while she was there.

She smiled at them pleasantly as she passed. They entered the hospital room as she glided elegantly down the hall towards the open elevator. She heard one of the nurses scream as the doors closed behind her, but she wasn't surprised. She had left a bit of a mess behind.

No matter. She'd gotten what she needed.

* * *

As Jim stumbled through the hallways looking for an exit, the sense of deja'vu he'd felt since waking up in this place only increased. It was definitely familiar. Though he couldn't remember much about when he'd first been captured, given the torture he'd endured, everything was a bit of a blur. Was it possible he'd been brought back to the rebel base that he'd escaped from before?

He rounded a corner, holding onto the wall to support his weakened body, only to come face to face with an old woman who gasped in fright and dropped the tray she had been carrying with a loud clatter. Jim immediately raised his hands to show he did not have any weapons.

"It's all right, I'm not going to hurt you..." He tried to calm the woman, hoping that she would not run or scream and alert anyone to his attempt to escape. What he wasn't expecting was her dark eyes to suddenly fill with recognition.

"You?!" she gasped, and Jim frowned. "What are you doing here?!"

At first, Jim couldn't comprehend the reaction, but then he looked more closely at the woman and he gasped in disbelief. It couldn't be... But her eyes were definitely familiar to him, and her features were similar, even if her face was now severely lined with age and her dark hair had gone gray. A few weeks ago she had been a beautiful young woman, now she looked like an old grandmother.

"Myrian? How..."

He didn't get to finish, he saw Myrian's expression change from confusion to fright a second before the blow struck him from behind. He heard Myrian scream before he blacked out.


	19. Chapter 19

"You are certain?"

He sounded tired. He looked tired. It wasn't surprising; he had nearly died from his wounds and it would take time for him to recover completely. But she knew it was not physical exhaustion alone that made Khan so weary now.

"I am afraid so, love," Carmilla replied, her voice sympathetic. "Abhay confessed everything. He had been feeding information to the rebels. Helping them to remain undetected. He also aided the forces that infiltrated your palace to assassinate you and abduct Kirk."

Khan's silence was deafening, his expression unreadable. It was certainly a blow. Abhay had been one of Khan's most trusted officers. For a human, that was saying much. He had been 'loyal' to Khan for years and Khan's trust was not easily won. To be betrayed in such a way...

"For what it's worth, he begged for your forgiveness in the end," she said, and from the look that Khan gave her, she knew it had been the wrong thing to say. She remained silent until Khan spoke again. Though his expression was calm, his eyes were as dangerous as ever. Abhay was truly lucky to be dead.

"I'm sure he begged for much more than that before you were done with him," he said. Carmilla sighed softly.

"I know you dislike many of my methods, Khan, but that does not mean they are not effective." Did he really think she enjoyed it? She was not a sadist. She did not enjoy making people suffer. She did not enjoy killing, even though that was what she had been made for. The perfect assassin. She had done much that she was not proud of. Much of it in Khan's name. But she would never apologize for it. The ends justified the means, even if they were distasteful.

"What else did he tell you?" Khan asked, not apologizing himself. Not that she had expected him to.

"The rebels do not have one base of operations in this area. They move between several locations every few weeks, which is why we have been having such trouble pinpointing them. He gave several possible coordinates." She waited a moment to gauge Khan's reaction before continuing. "One of them may be where Kirk was taken."

Khan's expression gave nothing away, but she knew better. Therefore, Khan's next words were not surprising.

"Take Joaquin, Ling, Kati, Rodriguez, and McPherson with you. Keep me updated on the situation. I will contact you if I receive any new information."

Carmilla gave him a questioning look, which Khan did not answer. That in itself was almost an answer. She nodded in understanding and stood.

* * *

Jim groaned softly in pain. His head felt like someone was using a laser cutter from inside of his skull. The throbbing matched the beat of his heart. His hair and the side of his face were sticky, most likely with blood. He didn't want to wake up. In fact, passing out was sounding really good right now. But the hard backhanded slap that had woken him to begin with was repeated, and Jim knew it was only going to continue until he opened his eyes. A part of him didn't care, but the part of him that did rather like his face in one piece, convinced himself to force his eyes open.

His vision was doubled, slipping in and out of focus, but eventually the grotesquely smiling face of Jacob filled his view...

Jim blinked...then he blinked again...

What the fuck? How...?

"That was a very foolish thing to do, Mr. Kirk." The doctor's voice came from across the room somewhere, but it almost didn't register to Jim. He still couldn't believe what he was seeing. He distinctly remembered the sound of the bones of the man's neck breaking and grinding together. The way the man's body had sagged like a puppet with the strings cut. No pulse. No breath. The man had been dead... Was Jim dreaming? Was he dead?

"You look surprised," the doctor commented with an amused chuckle and Jim finally turned his attention to him. It was then that Jim realized where he was: back in the lab where the doctor had done his 'tests' before. He was bound helpless to the same table, unable to move anything but his head. But he had enough range of motion to see the doctor himself, smiling at Jim with an undeniably amused expression. Behind him cowered Myrian... It really was her, despite how old she looked now... He almost thought that had been a dream as well. That was easier to believe than what he was seeing.

"How..?" he finally managed, and the doctor practically beamed.

"Science, of course, Mr. Kirk. Science created the augments. Science will destroy them." The doctor exclaimed this with such manic glee that Jim half expected the man to burst into evil laughter like some cliched evil villain from a twentieth century children's cartoon. "You will help me destroy them."

"You're insane." It wasn't as though Jim hadn't realized that before. The things the man had done to him... But he still hadn't realized the level of madness he was facing. The doctor's smile vanished abruptly.

"It does not matter what you think, Mr. Kirk. Their downfall has already begun. With Khan dead, the other augment strongholds will be in disarray. He was the only thing holding this foolish peace treaty together, uniting the other warlords. Soon enough, they will be fighting amongst themselves, like wolves over the last scrap of meat from a kill, to claim Khan's domain as their own."

The doctor's face split into a smile once more, his eyes alight with pure madness. He moved towards Myrian, reaching out to pet her hair almost tenderly despite the way the woman cowered in front of him.

"Leave her alone, you bastard," Jim growled, earning him another backhand from Jacob. The doctor completely ignored the exchange.

"Augments are the failed experiments. They took far too long to yield results. No real way to predict how the genetic modifications would manifest until after gestation and birth." The doctor shook his head and sighed almost wistfully. "My experiments are far superior with near instant results. Earlier experiments yielded...unforeseen side-effects."

The doctor gave Myrian another pat on the head, as if rewarding an obedient pet.

"I had wondered how you managed to escape so easily before. The delay your escape caused to my experiments was...unfortunate." He gripped Myrian by the hair hard, causing the woman to cry out in fear and pain. Jim struggled against the straps binding him, but it was useless; he was just as helpless as Myrian was. The doctor practically tossed the woman towards Jacob.

"Dispose of that. I have no use for traitors," the doctor said calmly, ignoring Myrian's pleas and Jim's angry protests.

"No! She didn't do anything! Leave her alone!"

"Please...my children... Please..."

Jacob dragged the sobbing woman away and the door slammed shut behind them, cutting off Myrian's pleas. Jim's attention turned back to the doctor, both furious and imploring at the same time.

"Please. Don't hurt her. She..."

"She is not your concern, believe me, Mr. Kirk. You have much bigger things to worry about right now," the doctor stated calmly from over by his work table, doing god-knew-what. Jim let out a frustrated cry through his teeth.

"You fucking bastard..."

The man finally turned towards Jim and approached him. He held a syringe in his hand filled with a silvery substance that Jim could not hope to identify. The young captain felt his blood run cold.

"Let's see if all my work has paid off. If my calculations are correct, this will be very unpleasant for you." The doctor spoke matter-of-factly as he injected Jim with the substance. He watched calmly as the young man began to convulse and scream.

* * *

He was dreaming again. If it could even be called that. He was lucid enough to recognize the place as his bedroom in Khan's palace. But this time it was different. This time he knew the identity of the person lying next to him in that too-comfortable bed. They were naked, not touching, but lying so close that Jim could still feel the heat radiating from the other man's skin. Rather than relaxing or comforting him as it had before, this filled him with tension and anger. He felt betrayed, which was probably foolish, because it wasn't like he had ever trusted Khan before. But to have his mind, his dreams, his body, invaded like this...

"What the fuck are you doing here?!" Jim snapped, his voice practically dripping with venom. Maybe it really was only a dream. Maybe it was only his own mind playing tricks on him. He didn't know. But it didn't matter, not when he finally had somewhere he could focus all of his pain and anger. "Answer me!"

Khan didn't answer. Not for a long time. A part of Jim wanted to turn and pummel all of his frustration, confusion, and fear into Khan's face, but every other time he had tried to catch a glimpse of the man in his 'dreams,' he had woken. And as much as he hated Khan being here, Jim didn't want to wake up right now. He didn't want to face the pain he knew would be waiting for him.

"You called to me," Khan said at length, so softly that Jim barely heard him, and it definitely wasn't the answer that he had been expecting. It threw Jim off, and for the moment confusion won out over the anger.

"What?"

"Don't you remember? The pain? The fever? The need?" The augment asked. Jim felt himself flush with embarrassment in spite of himself. Of course he remembered. How the hell could he forget?

"You did that to me?" he whispered, horrified.

"Of course not." Jim could practically hear the man rolling his eyes from the tone of his voice. "You really don't know anything, do you?" Jim couldn't tell whether Khan thought he was ignorant or stupid, but the tone made Jim's fury build once more. Without thinking he whirled on the man, his intent to punch Khan in his too-smug mouth, but Jim's fist was caught easily in a firm grip. This time Jim got a good look at him. Far too good a look, actually: indeed, the augment was just as naked as Jim was, and far too close. Jim tried to pull away, but Khan didn't release him, even when Jim growled and demanded to be released.

"Let me go, you bastard."

"You don't really want that," Khan stated calmly.

"The hell I don't!"

"This is _your_ mind, Kirk. I can't do anything that you don't want me to." The man smirked at him suggestively. "Anything."

Jim flushed again. Memories immediately sprang to mind of a man touching him in the dark, kissing him, fucking him...

"Liar..."

"I told you once before, Kirk. I have no reason to lie. None."

Jim swallowed hard. The man had no shame at all. None. That would mean this was all Jim's fault somehow. But Jim couldn't believe it.

"I didn't know it was you... Every time I tried to see you, I woke up..."

"You didn't want to know." This time there was a note of sympathy in Khan's tone and expression and Jim almost couldn't bear it.

"You could have told me when I was awake, you bastard!" Jim snapped, anger winning out again.

"Did you think I wanted this? Believe me, I did not," Khan countered, glaring back at Jim. "What's done is done. We must both live with the consequences."

That, Jim had never even considered. He had assumed that Khan had done this to him. If for no other reason than he was a sick bastard. But from the way the augment spoke, this, whatever it was, was happening as much against his will as it was Jim's. Jim wasn't sure how to feel about that. Because even if it was true, Khan had still kept Jim in the dark about it. As far as Jim was concerned, the man had still violated him, even if Jim had been a 'willing' participant when he hadn't known who the identity of his dream 'lover' was.

"What the hell is this? Is it a dream?"

"Now isn't the time, we need to make haste..."

"Fuck you! You had plenty of time to tell me before and you didn't. You can take the time now!" Jim snapped. Khan sighed heavily but he didn't argue, which kind of surprised Jim. Maybe Khan was telling the truth about this, whatever it was, in Jim's mind. Maybe he was the one in 'control'. He wasn't sure how to feel about that.

"You recall when I told you before that when an augment shares his or her blood with a human it is considered intimate?" Khan began, waiting for Jim to nod. Of course Jim remembered, Carmilla had called him Khan's fucking consort! Maybe she wasn't so wrong after all... The idea made Jim ill. "The blood changes a human on a fundamental level. The DNA is changed in subtle ways. The blood leaves a mark."

"I know all that!" Jim snapped impatiently. Khan gave him a surprisingly indulgent look.

"The rapid healing is only one, often desired, side effect. One that usually only lasts for a few days. The other side effects that can develop are varied and...complex. The influences can be more profound when a large quantity of blood or multiple transfusions are involved. The most common being...that the human body grows accustomed to the augmented blood. To the point that when the blood begins to be cycled out of the system, the body craves the augmented blood."

"Like an addiction..." Jim murmured, horrified.

"One that typically fades over time," Khan cut in, as though trying to reassure him. "The discomfort you felt before was the first symptoms of withdrawal. Symptoms that can fortunately...or unfortunately perhaps in this case, be relieved thanks to another fairly common side effect..."

The augment paused, perhaps waiting for Jim to make the connection, but he was having too much trouble processing all of this already. Or maybe he just didn't want to admit it. Khan sighed softly, almost resigned.

"A mental bond," The augment finished. Confirming Jim's worst fears. Not a dream after all, not even an uncomfortably vivid or disturbing dream, which was something he maybe could have lived with. But he actually had some kind of fucking psychic link with his worst enemy, with whom he'd been having...what, brain sex?

"I'm going to fucking kill you," Jim finally said, surprisingly calmly, considering the amount of anger he was feeling right now. Because if everything Khan was saying were true, then that meant Khan was definitely alive. Jim felt pissed off at himself that he'd felt even remotely bad about the augment's supposed death. He should have just let the mother-fucker die in the first place! He probably wouldn't be in this mess now if he had! Khan snorted softly.

"You are welcome to try. Later." Khan said, almost dismissively, which of course, only pissed Jim off more, but there wasn't much he could do about it now. "I told you before, as my blood leaves your system, the side effects will fade. All of them, including this. I do not know how much longer the link will last. Tell me where you are?"

Jim shook his head helplessly.

"I don't know..."

"Describe it. Picture it in your mind. Tell me," Khan insisted. Jim didn't know how the hell that was supposed to help, but he sighed and nodded.

"Underground. It might be the same place they brought me before. The rebels. Caves. It's dark. Cold." Jim began, shivering just remembering how cold it was in his cell.

"Go on," Khan encouraged.

"There's a man here. He calls himself a doctor, but he's even more sadistic than you are. He did something to me... I don't know what..." Jim shivered again, and he swore he could still feel the pain even unconscious, now that he was focusing on it. He didn't want to feel it. The cold. The pain. Jim felt Khan's arm slip around his waist, pulling him closer. As much as he would have liked to, he didn't resist, because Khan was warm, and being close to him made the pain go away. It always did...

"What else?" the augment asked.

"Another man. Jacob. He wants to..." Jim shuddered in revulsion. "I tried to escape. I killed him. But then he wasn't dead. I don't know how. Myrian... They did something to Myrian... She was here, but she was...old... I think they killed her because of me..."

"It's not your fault..."

"I don't know what they're doing to me. It hurts... Help me..." Jim's voice choked on the sob that welled up in his throat, yet hating himself for begging, Khan of all people. But he didn't know what else to do.

"I will. I swear it."

For some reason, Jim believed him. Even after he woke up screaming.


	20. Chapter 20

Khan came awake with a sharp gasp and a jerk which caused a flare of intense pain through his chest. He grit his teeth and forced himself to breathe slowly,  attempting to calm his racing heart to slow to a more normal rhythm.    
  
He had to remind himself that it wasn't his fear that was making his heart race.  Surprisingly that did not make him feel much better.    
  
Blood bonds were strange things; they could never be completely predicted. The side-effects that developed were as individual as each bond. There were some common elements, but they often varied widely in duration and intensity. It probably did not help that Kirk had somehow been exposed to his blood before. When Khan had offered his blood to heal Kirk he hadn't thought about the consequences. A part of him assumed, obviously wrongly, that any side-effects would be mild or nonexistent. Since Kirk must have endured them without his aid before and come out none worse for wear, Khan had been completely unprepared for the intensity of Kirk's withdrawal symptoms. Or how it would affect him.    
  
Perhaps Carmilla was right. He should have told Kirk. But Khan had decided it would only cause more problems than it was worth.  Kirk had been completely ignorant about the nature of the shared dreams. Apparently the young man had been completely ignorant of Khan's identity, even, until recently. Khan hadn't seen the harm in letting the young man remain so. They were only dreams... Good dreams...that would eventually fade. Why not let them both enjoy them while they lasted instead of filling them with the same poisonous hatred that filled their interactions in the waking world? It would only cause Kirk to suffer if he refused Khan's attempts to relieve the symptoms of withdrawal...  
  
Kirk would probably scoff at his reasons, would probably be surprised and unwilling to believe that Khan would care at all for his comfort or well-being. But the simple fact was, Khan didn't have a choice. As he'd told Kirk, he was as much at the mercy of the effects of the bond as Kirk was: Kirk felt a need for him that the young man would never acknowledge or admit to. Khan could not help but feel possessive, even protective, of Kirk, whether he wanted to or not. It was simply how the bond - their bond - had formed.    
  
The irony was not lost upon Khan. They were two enemies who had every reason to distrust, even hate one another. But in the end, Kirk's pain and fear had won out over his pride and anger, and the young man had begged him for help. Khan had vowed to give it, and he did not give his word lightly. No matter what the circumstances.  
  
Khan closed his eyes and tried to focus on what Kirk had been able to tell him about his location and who was keeping him captive. The bond between them was still surprisingly strong, despite the distance and the time that had passed since Kirk had been given his blood. Not much was known why this kind of mental connection developed between augments and humans. Some thought that all human minds had the potential to manifest psychic abilities, telepathy, telekinesis, and the like. But most humans simply did not have the mental discipline to focus that ability.  It was thought that the augmented blood 'awakens' that untapped ability in the human and focuses it onto the augment who supplied the blood.  But to successfully use that skill was not easy to learn. Kirk had done rather well, all things considered. But unconscious dreams driven by need and instinct was one thing, passing along coherent information was quite another.  What he had managed to get from Kirk was...jumbled at best.  
  
Khan had to concentrate. He had pushed Kirk to describe what he had seen for a reason. Khan could not only 'hear' Kirk speak, but he could feel what he felt, saw what he saw. If he concentrated, Khan could hopefully glean some information that would be useful in discovering where Kirk was, and who was responsible for all of this.    
  
It wasn't easy. Fear was one of the strongest emotions to come through the bond and it muddied everything. Khan had no doubt that Kirk was brave, almost to a fault, and should they have been face-to-face, the young man would have done an admirable job at hiding that fear. But he could not hide it when Khan had been in his mind. Kirk was terrified, and with undoubtedly good reason. This 'doctor,' whoever he was, terrified Kirk. And much more than the other man whom Kirk had spoken of.  He had gotten glimpses when Kirk had spoken of the man and he'd clearly seen Kirk kill him. Broke his neck.  But then he had been alive again with no evidence of injury. There was much an augment could recover from that a human could not. Even Khan had been surprised sometimes by what he had seen. But even an augment could not recover from such an injury so quickly.      
  
Khan pushed thoughts of the man Jacob aside for the time being. He clearly was not the mastermind behind all of this, and his revival was a mystery that could be solved later. Khan was more concerned with this 'doctor'. The images that Kirk had projected in his mind were strangely...indistinct.  The memories distorted. Perhaps the pain made them less distinct?  He wished now he had taken Joaquin up on his offer and practiced more diligently.  This was more difficult than it should be, but Khan was determined that it would not be a wasted effort. That man had caused Kirk, and no doubt many of his own people, so much agony...and he would pay for it. When the image of the man finally did clear enough for Khan to see his identity, he gasped, and his eyes snapped open in shock.  
  
It was him. Impossible... That man was dead. Khan had made sure of that himself.  It couldn't possibly be him...  


* * *

  
  
His blood was boiling. It felt like razor blades were flowing through his veins. Every inch of him hurt in a way he'd never imagined. He would have been screaming, but his throat was already raw and bloody, and he could only emit hoarse wheezing whimpers and groans.    
  
He wasn't aware of much other than the pain. The times when he mercifully blacked out in between agonizing periods of consciousness were a blessing. He didn't dream of Khan again. Jim began to almost wish he would, if only for a small respite from the twisted madman who watched over him, practically giddy while Jim writhed in agony.    
  
"Marvelous... Wonderful... Perfect. Exactly as I'd predicted!" He heard the 'doctor' muttering to himself as he examined Jim. He mostly poked and prodded, but occasionally Jim would feel the sharper cut of the scalpel in his flesh as the man 'took a deeper look' in his words. It almost didn't matter, the pain insignificant compared to the fire raging inside of him, different from how it had felt when he had begun to go into withdrawal from Khan's blood. So much worse.  
  
"What...did you do...to me..." Jim managed to gasp out in a rare lucid moment.  He stared blearily up at the doctor poised above him with the bloody scalpel in one hand and another syringe of the silvery liquid in the other. The man grinned maniacally at him.  
  
"Making you better."    


* * *

  
  
He was back in the cell. Jim thought he might be dreaming again, because the pain was gone. Though not completely. His whole body ached in a way that was beyond bone-weary, but it was nothing like the agony he'd experienced strapped to that examination table.    
  
Jim groaned as he pushed himself up on weak arms. His vision swam and his head throbbed like the worst hangover he'd ever experienced. He looked down at himself, almost afraid at what he would find...but his body was remarkably...whole. He remembered the doctor cutting him deep enough that the wounds would have needed stitches to heal. But there were no wounds. No open cuts. No healing ones.  Just...unmarked skin.    
  
"What...?" Jim looked down at his chest. That was where the worst of the damage had been the first time, but the bandages were now gone and his torso was also completely unmarked. Even... Jim's eyes widened in shock. Even the scars from the bullet wounds were gone. "...the fuck...?"  
  
Jim didn't have much time to wonder about his current condition or whether this was really a dream after all, because the door to his cell suddenly swung open.  He somehow wasn't surprised to see Jacob walk in, looking far too smug, as usual.  Jim was suddenly all too aware of his naked state and how his arms came up short when he tried to move. He was chained to the floor. His legs were chained too. Apparently they weren't taking any chances with him escaping again.    
  
Jim pushed down the lingering fear and confusion as he watched the man enter the too-small space and drew on his anger instead.    
  
"What did you do to Myrian?" he demanded. Jacob grinned, and Jim saw rotting teeth. This only made make Jim want to punch them down Jacob's throat.    
  
"Worry about yourself, pretty boy. The doctor is done with you now. That makes you mine."  The man's eyes trailed possessively over Jim's body, making Jim feel nauseous.  He didn't have much time to contemplate what was going to happen however, because Jacob moved faster than a man his size and stupidity should have allowed for.  He was on Jim before he could defend himself.  Jim couldn't do much anyway, chained the way he was, but that didn't stop him from yelling insults and struggling for all he was worth. He struck out at the man with his elbows and knees, and even tried to bite him. It was ultimately futile; Jacob seemed...stronger than before. He easily immobilized Jim's wrists in one large hand, his other wrapped itself around Jim's throat and slammed his forehead into the ground.  
  
All the fight left Jim's body like a puppet with its strings cut as pain exploded through his skull.  He felt blood drip heavily down his face as Jacob pushed his limp body to the ground. One hand continued to pin him by the neck while the other shoved its way underneath him to painfully grip Jim's cock. Jim cried out and tried to struggle, which only earned him another painful slam against the unforgiving floor.    
  
If this kept up he was going to black out again soon, though he wasn't sure if that would even stop Jacob. Probably not, even if the man did seem to enjoy his futile struggling. With another painful squeeze, his attacker's hand left his limp cock, and then Jim heard the sound of a belt buckle being undone.    
  
"No..." he wheezed around the painful pressure on his neck, practically blinded by his own blood. He thought he'd been prepared for the worse, but he realized he wasn't prepared for this.  
  
He also wasn't prepared for the sound of the cell door slamming open behind them. At first Jim thought it was only his imagination, wishful thinking.  But then he heard Jacob's surprised cry.  
  
"What the hell...?" And then the brute's weight was suddenly off his back. Jim heard a crash and a pained grunt. He lifted his head to see Jacob slumped against the far wall, his eyes wide with unmistakable fear. Jim couldn't blame him, because Khan himself now stood between them, looking more furious than Jim had ever seen him... And that was saying something... Jim could clearly remember the look on Khan's face as he'd crushed Admiral Marcus' skull between his bare hands. It had been terrifying, even though Jim hadn't been on the receiving end. This time, it wasn't fear that Jim felt, but a dizzying relief, making him wonder just how bad a concussion he had right now.    
  
He didn't watch as Khan...took care of Jacob, even though a part of him wanted to.  The would-be rapist's screams were more than enough to bear before they were abruptly cut off by a sickening crunch and gurgle.    
  
"What took you so long...?" Jim spluttered, earning him a look from the augment that made him shiver. Shiver not so much in fear but with something else he didn't want to examine too closely right now.  That the look was nothing short of possessive.  



	21. Chapter 21

It was a foolish thing to do. Even Khan could admit that, and no doubt he would be lectured on his foolishness at great length from Carmilla and especially Kabir. No doubt his chief security officer was throwing a fit even now having discovered that Khan was gone and the message he had left for the young man explaining where he was going. Foolish perhaps, but also necessary. There was simply no time to waste. Especially if Kirk was being held by whom Khan suspected. Too much time had passed already. And if Kirk was being held by that man, then Khan had a good idea of exactly where he was. Kabir would no doubt pass along the information to Carmilla and her team once he managed to get in touch with her. Khan could use that time to infiltrate the old research laboratories where the scientists had created him and his brothers and sisters. He had thought he'd destroyed them all during the uprising, but perhaps he had been wrong, or perhaps they had simply been salvaged in the years since. Either way, Khan knew that place better than anyone.  
  
Anyone living.  
  
Khan was still having a difficult time believing what he had seen in Kirk's mind. The memories had been rather difficult to decipher. Perhaps Khan's own experiences had somehow bled through and distorted the images. That was the most logical explanation. Kirk had been through so much pain and his mind had latched onto Khan's desperately for relief, once the young man had given up any semblance of pride, begging him for help.  
  
Or it was possible that Kirk's mind was merely confused, mixing old memories with new. Was it possible that Kirk had been one of the "doctor's" experiments too all those years ago? It might explain some of the inconsistencies with Kirk's story about where he had come from. It might explain why there was no record of the young man ever existing. It would also explain how Kirk had somehow ended up with his blood running through his veins. But Kirk was, for all intents and purposes, human. What would that doctor have wanted with Kirk then? More importantly, what would the rebels want with Kirk now?  
  
It did not make sense. How could that man be alive? Khan had watched him die, executed for the crimes committed against his people. It was impossible... But, if anyone was both intelligent and crazy enough to find a way to cheat death, it would be him. Khan intended to find out the meaning of this, one way or another. If Khan discovered that the doctor was in fact alive...then he'd finish the job himself. Properly this time, and with great enthusiasm.  
  
Khan had made good time to the site of the abandoned research facility, though in the interest of stealth, he'd been forced to abandon his vehicle some distance away from the location and make the remainder of the trip on foot. Not easy as he was still recovering from his injuries and felt out of breath before he was even a mile out from the location. The closer he came, the greater the sense of urgency he felt, and he knew it was not merely his imagination. So he ignored the discomfort and pushed on, refusing to let it slow him down.  
  
The research facility was surprisingly nondescript, looking like an average business center from the outside. That had been its intention, as the research once performed there had been highly classified at the time. The people walking the streets above had no idea of the horrors being performed right beneath their feet. Now the buildings above ground consisted of crumbling and burnt out abandoned structures. The tunnels beneath should have been incinerated and caved in, but it was possible that some of the vast network might have managed to escape the destruction Khan had leveled upon the facility. Some were perhaps dug out over the years, and some equipment salvaged.  
  
He saw the patrols. His first proof that these tunnels were was not as uninhabited as they should have been. He avoided the patrols easily. He checked several of the entrances that he knew of, but they were collapsed or impassable as he remembered them to be. Then he recalled Kirk's description of the 'sewers' that he had escaped from before and began searching for anything resembling that kind of access. He finally stumbled across it almost by accident and, though his expression twisted in distaste, he ignored the smell of filth and mentally calculated the path he would need to take through the twisting tunnels to reach the area he remembered from his youth.  
  
It took time, too much in his opinion, picking through obstacles and having to backtrack when he came to blockages in the tunnels, but eventually he arrived in an area he could tell had been inhabited for quite some time just by looking at it, despite its appearance of desolation. The old structures were barely recognizable, more ruins than anything, but they were still familiar to him. Familiar enough that once he recognized where he was, he was able to move much more quickly. The pull on his mind, almost like a hook embedded in his brain, leading him in the direction he needed to go became stronger.  
  
Khan eventually came across human guards, easily and quickly dispatched. Then he came to the...lab. Not as he remembered.  Compared to before, what equipment that had been salvaged and pieced together, this was practically primitive. But it was still similar enough to make his blood boil upon seeing it. He surmised what must have taken place here, the horrors his people, both human and augment alike, must have been subjected to. What Kirk must have been subjected to...  
  
Khan moved on. Faster now. Allowing the bond to lead him. He almost stopped cold when the near-constant feelings of anxiety and discomfort he'd almost grown used to suddenly flared into something more: a spike of panic. Revulsion. Khan could almost hear the constant stream of _no, no, no_ in Kirk's mind. Khan broke into a run.  
  
The scene he came across in the cell did not surprise him. It couldn't have, because through the bond he could almost feel what was happening to the younger man as it occurred. Yet somehow seeing it... Seeing the bigger man's hands on the other's body, forcing him down, prepared to take what Kirk was unwilling to give... To take what was _his_!  
  
Whatever was left of Khan's composure evaporated in an instant as he was filled with rage. He moved swiftly and silently as death. The big man barely had time to turn and look when Khan threw open the cell door. In return, Khan barely had time to see the disfigured man's face shift from surprised anger to abject terror upon seeing him. Khan grabbed the man, dragging him off the struggling younger man, and threw him like a rag doll across the room and against the wall. The brute's body hit the unforgiving cement with a sickening sound but that was not nearly satisfying enough. Khan gave the man no time to regain his senses; he struck the man over and over, and every punch, every kick, broke bone. He could hear it. He could feel it. The man screamed in pain but Khan did not hear it. All he could hear was the thundering sound of his own heart, the rage he felt making him deaf to anything else. He finally ended it by taking the man's head between his hands and squeezing it with all his strength. The bones gave away with very little effort, and Khan was pleased by the crunching sound he could hear as the man's skull caved in.  
  
He heard Kirk shuffling around behind him and Khan dropped what was left of the body and turned to face the young man. Kirk's face was bloody and bruised but he seemed otherwise unharmed. Remarkably so. And, for perhaps the first time, Kirk looked at Khan without a hint of the familiar loathing he'd come to expect. In fact, Kirk seemed genuinely glad to see him. Relieved even.  
  
Kirk collected himself quickly, and when he spoke, it was with an almost cheeky tone. "What took you so long...?" Khan raised an eyebrow. The young man was probably in shock.  
  
"Traffic," Khan replied in a dry tone, earning him a surprised blink and a strained laugh. Khan rushed over to Kirk and knelt down beside him. "Can you move?" He looked over Kirk's body with an assessing eye, checking for injuries. Kirk avoided his gaze but he nodded and started to push himself up on shaking arms.  
  
Khan took Kirk's wrists in his hand, examining his bindings. The chains were designed to hold a human, not an augment. He took the chain in a firm grip and twisted it. It took a little effort but Khan was able to bend and detach it from the cuffs around Kirk's wrists. The cuff would need to be removed later; it was too thick for even Khan to remove with his bare hands and he didn't want to waste time looking for a key. He did the same thing for the chain at the young man's ankles. Kirk watched him with wide eyes.  
  
"Let's go." Khan took the other man by the arm and helped him to stand. Kirk flinched a little when Khan touched him but he didn't pull away. That was probably a good thing, for in that moment, a wave of dizziness hit Khan and he suddenly found himself leaning on the younger man instead of the other way around.  He put a hand to his chest and grimaced in pain which he only now became aware of. He'd pushed himself too hard...  
  
"Are you all right?" Kirk asked, sounding genuinely alarmed, even concerned.  
  
Khan nodded. "Fine. Though it would be best if we left now before more opposition arrives."  
  
Khan straightened so that he was no longer leaning against the younger man but he remained close to Kirk in case the other needed support. Kirk seemed to hover near him for just the same reason as they quickly exited the cell. The scenario would have been amusing if the situation was not so dire.   
  
"This way," Khan instructed, moving ahead of Kirk to lead them out the way he had come. Kirk looked around warily, but followed without complaint.  
  
"You came here alone?" Kirk questioned after a time, as though the thought had just occurred to him.  
  
"Not exactly," Khan replied. He didn't need to look at Kirk to see that the man was frowning behind him.  
  
"What does that mean?"  
  
"I'm sure my men will be here soon enough and will take care of any rebels they find." Khan spoke with certainty. He wanted very much to ask Kirk if he knew where the doctor was, but his main concern right now was getting the younger man to safety. Carmilla and his guards could easily handle the rest when they arrived.  
  
"You're still injured," Kirk observed, as though he'd just realized that as well. This time Khan did not answer him. It took Khan a moment to realize that Kirk had stopped walking and was simply staring at him in shock. As Khan turned to tell him to keep moving, his eyes widened, and he barely had time to shove Kirk out of the way.  
  
The weapon was a simple iron pipe, crude, but effective as it hit Khan dead center in his chest. The pain that flared through him was staggering and Khan immediately tasted blood in his mouth, mostly due to his previous injuries. He fell hard, grunting upon impact, but it was not the pain that kept him immobile on the ground. It was sheer disbelief as Khan stared up at the man... he had just killed moments earlier. Covered in his own blood, his body -especially his skull- misshapen, the man was still standing there, grinning maniacally at him with a mouthful of blood. As he watched, Khan could see the bones in the man's face shifting back into alignment!  
  
"What the fuck!" Kirk's exclamation perfectly mirrored Khan's own thoughts. The thug lifted his 'weapon' high, prepared to bring it down on Khan's skull; a fitting 'payback'. Kirk barreled into the other man before he could complete the action, and they both went down. Khan heard an unmistakable _squishing_ sound. The grotesque man's body had obviously not completely healed, though somehow he was still moving. Still alive when he should not be. The man threw Kirk off of him with surprising strength. The younger man struck the wall hard, his expression dazed. Jacob was already on his feet again, towering over Kirk.  
  
Khan forced himself up, but he was too slow, pain hampering his movements. A split second was all it took for the beast to bring down the sharp end of the broken pipe and to pierce Kirk straight through the chest.  
  
"Nooo!"


	22. Chapter 22

It had all happened so fast. Too fast. It was almost impossible for his mind to process it all.  
  
One moment he had been standing there, stupidly staring at Khan in disbelief, unable to believe what the augment had just done. Khan had come to his rescue. Khan himself. Alone. No one else. Despite the augment's claims of superiority, the people who had taken Jim had already proven themselves plenty dangerous, and Khan had come here alone. Alone and injured! To save him.  
  
What the hell was the man thinking? He could have sent someone else. Anyone else. Hell, the man could have sent a fucking army if he really wanted to! This was not Jim's time, when Khan had been alone, fighting a one-man war against Admiral Marcus and the entirety of Starfleet. This Khan had resources to spare. If it had been one of Khan's own people Jim might not have questioned his actions; Khan had already proven there was little he wouldn't do for those he cared about. His crew. His family. No matter how stupid, violent, or suicidal dangerous. But for him?  
  
What the hell did that say?  
  
Jim wasn't sure he wanted to know, but he had been prepared to ask anyway. The words were on the tip of his tongue even as Khan turned to look at him impatiently. Jim never got the chance. In the next moment, Khan was shoving him out of the way and as he fell, he saw Khan struck in the chest, and augment or no, that had to have injured him. The man was recovering from a gunshot to the chest for fuck's sake! Khan dropped like a stone and Jim could only stare in disbelief at the man who had felled him. Though Jim wasn't sure if he could honestly use that term to describe Jacob any longer; he certainly didn't look like a man now with his grotesquely misshapen features. No mere man could have survived what Khan had done to him minutes ago.  
  
"What the fuck?!" Under other circumstances, the look of shock that mirrored Jim's sentiment on Khan's face would have been comical. Right now it was anything but. Thankfully Jim's shocked paralysis was broken when he saw Jacob raise the pipe high, preparing to bring it down on Khan's head. Jim knew the augment wouldn't recover from this injury, despite how many impossible things he had witnessed recently.  
  
Much like that moment in the ballroom, Jim reacted without thinking. He had no weapons. Hell, he didn't even have any fucking clothes! But that didn't stop him from throwing himself, quite literally, in harm's way to protect the wounded augment on the ground. Risking his own life to save his enemy...who had done the same for him.  
  
Again, Jim didn't have much time to contemplate his own actions. Jacob reacted a lot faster than Jim would have expected for a man whose body he could _feel_ was practically crushed in most places. Too strong. Too fast. What the hell was he?! Jacob flung Jim away as if he weighed no more than a child, and Jim had no time to counter. He suddenly found himself quite literally pinned to the floor, like some kind of insect on display, the metal pipe shoved completely through his torso. The pain was excruciating of course, and he couldn't help the bloody scream that erupted from his lips. He could only distantly make out Khan's shouted denial over the sound of his own agony.  
  
He wasn't going to survive this. Sure, he'd recovered from some pretty serious injuries with the help of Khan's blood before, but that wasn't going to happen now. Certainly not quickly enough to stop him from bleeding out right here. He could feel his blood pooling beneath him. He choked on it with every labored breath he took. It was probably a miracle, or a sick joke, that the shock alone hadn't killed him instantly. But despite the pain, he was remarkably -or perhaps unfortunately- extremely lucid right now. Though he could do nothing as he watched as Khan attacked Jacob.  
  
The augment didn't hold anything back, Jim could tell. But as savagely as Khan attacked the other man, it seemed to do little good. Any blows which Khan landed certainly did damage, that was clear enough. But nothing seemed to be slowing Jacob down. In fact, he only seemed to get stronger the more damage that was done to him. Whether it was due to his injuries, or that Jacob was simply that powerful, Khan was not faring well in the fight. Jacob knocked him to the ground with a well-placed punch and struck Khan over and over, bruising and bloodying the augment's face. Jim could remember when he had attempted to do the same, but his strongest punches had done nothing to leave a mark on Khan. But now Khan was obviously growing dazed, weakening. Jacob was going to kill him...beat him to death with his bare hands...  
  
Gritting his teeth, Jim grasped the metal pipe still embedded in his chest, and with a hoarse cry, pulled as hard as he could. The pipe came free, blood rushed from his chest in a great gush, but he forced his uncooperative body to move. Even if it was the last thing he did.  
  
Jacob turned towards him, sensing the threat perhaps, but not in time. Jim struck the man in the head with the pipe as hard as he could. The blow was not as strong as he would have liked with his strength quickly fading, but enough to knock the man off of Khan and to the ground. Then, Jim turned the tables and brought the sharp end of the pipe down through Jacob's neck, crudely but effectively beheading him.  
  
Jim staggered. Dropped to his knees. His eyes never left the body. In fact, he was fully prepared for the man somehow get up again, despite the blow. Considering what he'd already seen of Jacob, who could blame him for thinking that might have been possible? But the body didn't move. Didn't even twitch.  
  
"Kirk..."  
  
Jim turned to face Khan. The man was looking at him with wide eyes and an expression on his face Jim couldn't define. Jim opened his mouth, not sure what he was going to say, but he knew he should probably do it fast since he didn't have much time left. At least the pain was starting to fade. But Khan wasn't looking at his face; he was looking at his chest. Jim looked down...and froze completely as he watched the sickening sight of the bones, muscles, and other damaged tissues shifting back into place and closing. Within minutes the grotesque wound was completely gone. If not for the horrible amount of blood covering him, one would never know it had ever been there to begin with.  
  
Whether from shock or loss of blood Jim promptly passed out.

* * *

  
  
At first Jim thought he was dreaming. After all, the only time he'd been warm and comfortable in the last several days was in his dreams. Dreams with Khan... Though, now, there were some differences which immediately indicated that he wasn't sleeping. Immediately, he was on his guard. One was the sound of medical monitoring equipment he'd become used to when he'd first ended up in this century. The other was though he knew he wasn't alone, he was also aware it was not Khan who was with him. He could...feel it...  
  
Jim opened his eyes to a stark white room, very much like the military hospital he had been taken to after Kabir and Abhay had come to question him the first time. Abhay was not there, but Kabir was. The young man sat in a chair beside Jim's bed, staring at him with a guarded expression. Jim tried to move, to at least sit up, but found himself restrained on the bed. Immediately, Jim became defensive, tugging uselessly at the straps that held him down, but they did not budge. After being chained down and experimented on by an insane doctor, finding himself once more bound helplessly to a bed was unacceptable. He turned hostile eyes on the man sitting beside him.  
  
"What the hell is this? Where is Khan?!" Because if anyone could sort this out, it was definitely Khan, whether Jim wanted to admit it or not. The man was alive, for fuck's sake, and had come to his rescue like some kind of cliched white knight in shining armor. Why the hell would he treat Jim like a prisoner now!  That meant this was Kabir's idea. "I want to see the emperor! Now!"  
  
Kabir frowned at him.  
  
"The emperor is currently otherwise occupied. However I will inform him of your request for an audience at a later time," Kabir stated calmly. Jim growled. The young officer continued as though Jim hadn't made a sound. "I assure you, this is only a precaution. For your protection. And under the direct order of the emperor himself."  
  
"Bullshit!" Jim snapped, earning a raised eyebrow from the young man. Though even Jim wasn't sure he was more doubtful of Khan's order, or that the restraints were supposedly for _his_ protection. Kabir apparently decided to take it as the latter.  
  
"Unfortunately, yes. Until we can better understand exactly what the doctor did to you..."  
  
All of Jim's memories of his time he'd spent as the doctor's prisoner came flooding back and Jim felt his whole body go cold.  
  
"What did he do to me?"  
  
Kabir actually looked sympathetic for a moment.  
  
"We are not sure," The young officer admitted, which certainly did not make Jim feel any better. He swallowed hard.  
  
"What happened?"  
  
Kabir hesitated a moment before replying, probably deciding exactly how much, or how little, to tell Jim. "According to the emperor, we arrived shortly after you lost consciousness. The team was able to extract you both with relative ease. We swept the tunnels extensively but found no sign of the doctor. Any rebels found were dealt with."  
  
"Myrian?" Jim asked hopefully, even though the other man seemed reluctant to confide any more information. There was a definite note of sympathy in Kabir's eyes this time when he responded.  
  
"We found no one who fit your prior description." Jim opened his mouth to explain when he had seen her last, she'd somehow been an old woman, not young as the first time they had met. He still didn't understand how that was possible, but right now it was pretty low on the list of impossible things he'd witnessed lately. Kabir didn't give him the chance to clarify, however. "We found no other prisoners at all, only...bodies. Burned beyond recognition."  
  
Jim felt his stomach turn cold.  
  
"She had children..."  
  
"We found no sign of children."  
  
Jim didn't know whether that was a good thing or bad thing right now. He wasn't sure how to feel about anything anymore. Kabir looked at him thoughtfully for a few long moments before the young officer stood.  
  
"I will leave you to rest," he said, then turned to leave. But Jim didn't dare close his eyes again. He was certain he would see nothing but nightmares.

* * *

  
  
It was a long time before anyone, other than a few nurses, came to check up on him. Jim didn't even attempt to speak to any of the staff. Instead, he lost himself in the memories of what he had witnessed. What had been done to him...  
  
When the door finally opened sometime late in the night, Jim knew it was Khan before he even turned to look at the man. He just...knew. Was this another 'side effect' of the bond that he and Khan shared? Jim was definitely not sure what to feel about...all of that... But right now, those concerns were secondary. The expression on the augment's face certainly did not put Jim at ease. Khan had never looked at him so...cautiously before... Even when they had first met in this time and Khan could only assume that Jim was a rebel assassin sent to kill him. Jim had to laugh; it seemed a little insane, even to him, but it was just too funny.  
  
" _Now_ you look worried? Not when I almost stabbed you at dinner?" Jim asked with a chuckle and a raised brow. Khan simply stood there, plain white shirt and trousers, his dark hair loose around his shoulders, looking like a man at a loss for words. It definitely didn't make Jim feel any better. "Aren't you going to say anything?"  
  
Khan took a deep breath and let it out slowly before approaching Jim's bed. He sat down on the edge of it. It would have once felt uncomfortably close. Now...  
  
"I'm sorry." Khan said softly and Jim couldn't help letting out another near-hysterical laugh. It was just so...wrong hearing Khan utter those words.  
  
"Fuck...am I dying or something?" Jim finally found the nerve to ask. Khan's eyes widened and he shook his head.  
  
"No...no. Not as far as we can tell. We are...studying the remains of that man, Jacob. Trying to determine what was done to him. From what I witnessed, I can only assume whatever was done to him-"  
  
"...was done to me," Jim finished for Khan and a shiver of revulsion passed through him in spite of himself. He was alive. Whatever changes to his body that...doctor...had wrought were probably the only reason he was still alive. But at what cost? What the hell had been done to him?  
  
Khan gave a slow, reluctant, nod.  
  
"Fuck..." Jim muttered, his head dropping back against his pillow and he stared up at the ceiling above him. Could this day get any worse? Probably...so he better not push it. But what else did he have to lose? "Are you going to kill me?"  
  
"No." That answer came surprisingly quickly and Jim looked at Khan in surprise. Khan was not looking at him, however and Jim could only imagine what the man was thinking. The blank wall on the other side of the room couldn't be that interesting, after all. The two were silent for a long time.  
  
"Why did you come after me?" Jim asked at length. Khan turned to look at him once more with a very serious expression.  
  
"Why did you push me out of the way of the assassin's bullet?" Khan countered. Jim had no answer. Apparently neither did Khan. Or if he did, he wasn't sharing. Eventually Jim was forced to look away from the intensity of that stare.  
  
Jim felt the bed shift, he thought that Khan was leaving. He didn't at all expect the other man to suddenly lean over him, his hands braced on either side of Jim's head. He didn't touch Jim at all but forced him to look into his eyes once more. Jim felt his heart begin to beat faster in spite of himself. And that was before Khan leaned in slowly to press his lips against his.  
  
It could barely be called a kiss, the touch was so light. Warmth. The barest amount of pressure. Jim could have easily pulled back or turned his head to break the contact, but he didn't. In fact, he lifted his head a little to increase the pressure, his lips parting the barest amount to return the almost hesitant touch.  
  
The kiss lasted only for a few seconds, but Jim's heart felt like it was racing inside his chest by the end of it. Khan gave him no time to speak, or even consider what had just happened. As soon as it was over, the man pulled away, stood, and left the room. Leaving behind one very confused James Kirk.

* * *

  
  
"It is done. The experiment was a success. By studying the genetic abnormalities created by the merging of human and augment blood and using nano-technology..."  
  
_"I don't need your babbling details, Doctor, I just need to know if it will work."_ The man on the phone cut him off rudely, and his grip tightened on the receiver. But even his irritation could not dampen his enthusiasm. After so many years of failure, he had finally succeeded!  
  
"Yes, of course it will work. I have already begun administering the serum to the subjects. The first group will be ready by the end of the week."  
  
_"For your sake, I hope so. Contact me when the test subjects are ready."_ At that, the man on the other line hung up and the doctor sighed and did the same. No matter. With unmistakable pride he looked over the rows of test subjects, bound and writhing, as the treatment worked on their bodies. Soon these fragile pathetic creatures would become the ultimate weapons. Virtually unstoppable, and more than a match for any augment.  
  
It was only a matter of time now. This was the beginning of the end. A new beginning for humanity.  
  
One of the children screamed, and Dr. Noonien Singh laughed in joy.


End file.
